White Doves and Bluebells
by AntiqueSong
Summary: The war is over and Harry has returned to teach at Hogwarts. He has lost the only love he ever knew, but finds it once again in the most unlikely place. Amidts a secret and a mystery most had long sense forgotten.
1. The Closet Under The Stairs

_Summery: The war is over and Harry has returned to teach at Hogwarts. He has lost the only love he ever knew, but finds it once again in the most unlikely place. Admists a secret and a mystery most had long sense forgotten… This is not what your expecting, not in the least. I dont want to give anything away, you'll have to read. And Let me warn you... This is fluffy... And i dont wish to hide it._

_Disclaimer: ObviouslyI do not own any of the recognizable characters from the HP series. They belong to JK Rowling alone. I do however own any and all characters that I have created and are distinctive to this story. Thanks_

* * *

The atmosphere of Hogwarts was nothing like he remembered. It still held the warm comfort of home that Harry loved dearly from his days at school. But no longer was there joy in the air. No longer was there friendship. No longer was there love.

The war had ended and Harry had defeated Voldemort, just as he was destined to do. But unlike the thankful witches and wizards who returned to their lives without fear, Harry felt no peace. His life had been so brutally damaged that it seemed nothing could repair it. Not even his friends, though they tried to bring the vibrant smile back to his scared face, it was not to be found.

And even now he refuses to let them close enough to try. Hermione and Ron are getting married. He can only imagine the joy they must feel. The joy he so dearly wished to feel.

Oh how he wanted her. How much he wanted to wake up beside her, knowing that she would be his now and always. How much he loved her.

But Ginny is dead. Her life was taken by a death eater along with hundreds of others. They killed her like she was nothing but a bug to be crushed. She got in their path and was swatted, without a thought.

Sometimes he thought it was better that way. Them not knowing what she meant to him… Her not knowing what she really meant to him. Oh, she knew he had a school boy crush on her at one time, and maybe even still liked her a little. But she had no idea how deeply his love ran.

And maybe, just maybe that was for the best. If they had known would she have died a more painful death?

Maybe they would have used it to weaken him. God knows he barely had any strength left when he finally won. Maybe if he knew Ginny was dead because of his selfish needs, he wouldn't have been able to finish what needed to be completed.

But as Harry walked solemnly down the halls of Hogwarts, deserted for the summer, he finally felt at home. None of his previous residences made any sense. He found he couldn't live with any of his friends, that wasn't right… he couldn't stand their happiness. And he couldn't live alone, for he couldn't stand the sadness.

He didn't want a job. No job fit either. The ministry offered him a top ranking position. But he hated making high wages working at a boring job that others like Mr. Weasley worked their whole lives to have. He couldn't be an Auror; it was like living in the painful chaos of the war everyday. Never knowing what was coming next.

No matter how hard he thought, he simply couldn't think of anywhere he belonged… that is until he received a letter from Professor McGonagall, offering him a position as the DADA professor. He could live once again, in the only place that felt like home.

It wasn't perfect, it too held painful memories… but it was the best he had. At least this is where he remembered Ginny, and his youthful happiness. At least this is where he had once known love.

* * *

"I don't want normal teacher's quarters." Harry explained solemnly to McGonagall as he gently examined the old nick knacks that once belonged to his beloved Headmaster. "I want to be somewhere secluded."

McGonagall giggled. "You know who you sound like Harry?"

"Who?"

"Snape, when he first came to teach."

Harry sighed, despite his utter hatred for the man; for once in his life he understood at least something of the bitter potions master.

"I suppose next you'll be asking to skip meals and all social functions?"

Harry gave her a look of annoyance. He would rather not be compared to his old teacher, no matter how truthful the comparison may be. And _now_ he'd rather not admit that he wasn't in fact planning on coming to meals, that is if he could at all help it.

"I appreciate your generosity professor, but not your sarcasm."

"Alright alright. But please call me Minerva." She said joyfully in an attempt to lighten Harry's solemn disposition. "You're a professor yourself here now you know."

Harry forced a small smirk. He didn't need to be reminded. "So… Do you think you have somewhere for me?" He asked, hoping to escape the dreaded small talk as quickly as possible.

"You know, I think I know of just the place… It'll take me an hour or so to conjure it up into something appropriate. But, nevertheless I think even you'll approve."

"Really… What do you have in mind?"

* * *

Minerva kicked a box against the wall in an attempt to clear a walking path in the clutter and dust.

"We'll of course clear away all this." She said motioning to the many boxes and old furniture stacked against the walls. "We'll have to make more closet rooms to store them in… And of course we'll add adequate lighting in these halls. It can get so dark." She squeezed through a small space between what looked like an old cabinet and a table covered in discolored cloth.

"At the end of the hall are a cluster of closets. Some bigger than others. And if all goes well I can clean them out and connect them… making a rather lovely living space if I do say so myself. And then of course I can furnish it, add pluming and such."

Harry looked at her, rather taken aback. "That sounds complicated. Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

"No not at all, it's really all easy enough… in fact to tell you the truth we don't have any empty teachers quarters... Aside from Snape's in the dungeon. But I can't imagine you wanting that."

Harry nodded. Yes, well that was for sure.

"What is this place exactly." He asked noting the cob webs and old peeling paper the graced the walls.

"The Hogwarts basement so to speak… Not many know about it. We keep any old furniture or unused artifacts here. It's probably quite interesting really if I had time to go through it. Oh well." Minerva looked around, the truth of her age shining in her eyes.

Suddenly there was a creaking in the low ceiling boards, followed by a small bang, as if something heavy had hit a wall.

They both looked up, and Minerva sighed. "Oh, I forgot about that… well I suppose we'll have to cast a little silencing spell on your rooms."

"Where is this basement exactly?" Harry asked, having a feeling it was quite deep under the school.

"Under the staircase actually. Directly above lay dozens of moving staircases. I trust you remember them?"

Harry chuckled. He most certainly did. "Well it appears I once again reside in the closet under the stairs." He said with an air of finality.

Minerva laughed heartily. "Yes, I suppose your right…" Her eyes twinkling.

"Well anyway, we always kept it as well hidden from students as possible. You can only imagine what kind of disasters might occur down here. No one is ever around to keep tabs on what happens here, not even Finch cares to lurk around these halls... A student could achieve a god awful amount of mischief and no one would ever know." She winked at him.

If only he had known about this as a student. In fact…

"Minerva, I don't remember any account of this hall on the Marauders Map." Harry commented curiously. It was true; he had looked over that map numerous times. He was sure he knew Hogwarts like the back of his hand.

"Well, Mr. Potter. Have you ever considered that perhaps not even the famous Marauders knew about _every _part of Hogwarts? That maybe, there are still some secrets hidden in this school?"

Harry chuckled. "No I supposed I always thought that that map held every secret Hogwarts had to offer."

"No. I can assure you. Hogwarts still holds plenty of mystery. Even some_ you_ Mr. Potter have yet to discover."


	2. Door Number Nine

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Hey everyone, I just wanted to apologize upfront for any confusion I might have caused when I changed the title. I decided today that I hated it. But I assure you its permanent now. **White Doves and Bluebells**. And secondly, chapter one was revised just a tiny bit. I'm hard core anal and I found too many grammar mistakes that needed to be fixed. It's not worth re-reading, but I thought I'd give you the heads up. _

_Chapter three is already in the making and should be up tomorrow, or maybe even later tonight. Thanks.

* * *

_

He had to admit McGonagall was certainly true to her word. His new quarters were definitely large.

Harry paced the large entry room that resembled something of a living room, with a fireplace, couch and bookcase. The dark woods of the furniture accented the green walls and light wood floors.

'At least', he thought to himself, 'I'll have somewhere comfortable to escape to.'

Attached to the main room was a simple bathroom, a study, and a large bedroom with the classic four poster bed.

He was still amazed at how fast she managed to clean up the hall and create such a perfect room. No longer where there boxes, all had been safely moved behind the many closed doors that would salute him as he walked to his rooms every night.

The dust and spiders were cleaned away, and bright alluring lights dissolved the once creepy feeling he had when walking through this corridor.

But most spectacularly were the ceilings. The ceilings of the hall were remarkable low, but those in his room were at least twice as long as the average room. Stretching up to meet a curved ceiling and detailed molding. Certainly McGonagall didn't go to that much trouble?

Well whatever the source, Harry adored it. He had finally found an oasis that was just right. Quiet and secluded, without the feeling of complete solitude, he could finally rest in peace, and hopefully keep busy enough to allow his troubles to melt away and return him to the carefree life he once enjoyed.

'As unlikely as it is', he thought to himself as he gazed at a small photograph of Ginny. 'It's worth a try.'

* * *

School didn't start for a month, but students had already begun arriving, and Harry was starting to feel the pressure of responsibility.

'I thought the stress of school work ended when you were no longer a student.' Harry thought as he flipped through numerous books in his study, trying to take notes for his upcoming classes.

First years, second years, fifth years, sixth years… all seven years of students now his responsibility.

Teaching plans for a years worth of curriculum for seven classes full of students. It was enough to make him sick. Well at least he could simply follow the text books, sorting out the material deciding what was important and what should be focused on first. If he played his cards right it might not be as much of a hassle as he had predicted. But of course… he never seemed to be able to do anything without some kind of complication.

Harry was deep in concentration, having made his way to the third year text book, mapping out his lesson plan for the first semester, when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I see your actually working during the summer… incredible, If only you had done more of that as a student."

Harry looked up at the smaller fireplace that graced his study wall.

McGonagall's head was glowing green and floating above the clean brick floor.

"Am I to assume that this will not be the last uninvited visit I am to expect while I'm here?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"I simply popped in to tell you that your two fireplaces, this one and that in your entry room are now both hooked up to the floo system. I thought that it might make life a little more convenient for you."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Thanks Minerva. I appreciate it."

"Of course, and don't fret I wont bother you, I know you strive on privacy. And remember you can block these if you want to avoid any unwanted guests..." She said with almost too much understanding. Harry hated that everyone was starting to know how secluded he wished to be.

"And finally, I know you're a long way away from everything, so if you need anything at all, I assigned one of the school elves to you. Her name is Rosie and if you push the nose of the lion engraved on this fireplace… she'll come straight away."

Harry laughed, "Just like Dumbledore you never miss an opportunity to be creative do you?"

"Just a little bit of fun… and one more thing, your welcome to go into any of the closets in your hall, as long as you don't remove anything, I don't know exactly what's in them… The doors work just like the paintings upstairs. They won't unlock without a password. Dumbledore installed them many years ago. Each has a number on it. If the number is five you say, "Five marshmallows and it will open. It's the same with all of them… one marshmallow, two marshmallows, et cettera."

Harry grinned. How much he was going to miss his old headmaster. With all his jokes and wisdom, it would never be the same.

"Thanks, I'll remember that." He said hoping she'd finally leave him in peace.

McGonagall winked and then disappeared with a pop.

Turing back to his work, he flipped another page of the book remembering the long hours spent over these texts.

Page 394… werewolves. Yes, he remembered this lesson in particular.

* * *

_It was dark again. The corridor leading to his room held nothing but a dim light that seemed to come from no where. Harry walked slowly… he seemed to know where he was headed. His feet carried him almost robotically forward._

_He was scared, and excited all at the same time. And inside his head, the thoughts seemed to be loud, almost angry, calling him forward into the unknown. Voices that knew him, voices that were pleading for him to return to this unknown place. As if his own mind was telling him there was something he was missing, something he needed to find. That he was where he was for a reason._

_And then in a moment, quicker than a blink of the eye he was no longer moving slowly away from his room, he was standing facing a door that seemed to beckon him, door number nine._

_His common sense was afraid, but there was a peace. This door wanted to be opened; it wanted to be opened by him, but if only he knew why._

* * *

**Kruzkid92**– Don't fret my love, "someone" will find happiness again soon. But we have to be patient; it doesn't come over night ;)

**trishna87**– Yay, thanks so much, you're a sweetheart. Keep reading it's definitely gonna start getting interesting.


	3. Just a Dream?

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Here's chapter three... I dont have much to say this time except that chapter four will be up tomorrow. I'll try and put a new chapter up everyday, but once school starts for me next week it may slow down a little._

_Thanks so much to those of you who have reviewed. Please please review, its always appreciated to any writer._

_Thanks!_

_-Antiquesong_

_NOW READ!_

* * *

Harry awoke with a start, a cold sweat grazing his brow and the sheets twisted tight about his thighs. His palms were clammy and his heart raced.

It was just a dream.

He was used to dreams that had him waking like this. But he wasn't used to anything so strange. The dreams that haunted his nights were simple memories of happy times forgotten, or fear come back to haunt. But never were they like this.

Straightening out the sheets he slipped back into bed, pulling the covers up over his arms, even though he wasn't cold.

Suddenly the solitude of his location wasn't quite as alluring. He was beginning to wish there was someone sleeping nearby.

Was he really to assume that there was something behind this door he dreamt of to be concerned about? Was there really something he was supposed to find? Or was this dream just the product of his overactive imagination, perhaps brought on by stress. Maybe he had noticed something about that door the other day that made him dream of it, something he couldn't remember now.

Hermione used to say the last thing you think of before you fall asleep is what you dream of. However in the morning you can't remember what it was you were thinking. Maybe that was true, maybe all this paranoia was as simple as that.

But no matter how hard he talked himself out of it, he knew in his heart that there was something calling out to him. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. But it was almost like when he heard his mother screaming in his head so many years ago. There was something, whether it be his own mind or something all together different, calling out to him from behind that door.

'Calm down Harry.' He thought to himself, giggling a little. 'Your twenty three years old and your afraid of the dark like a little child!'

He scooted to the other side of the queen sized bed and found a cool space between the sheets and a new pillow that wasn't quite as rumpled. And slowly he drifted off into a much sounder sleep.

* * *

"Your toast and tea sir." 

The thin elf stood looking at Harry with a huge smile plastered across her face. She seemed overly delighted to have been able to make the trip.

"Uh, ya thanks." He answered, not used to being waited upon. "Your Rosie right?"

"Yes, yes indeed sir! The headmaster said that I could be assigned to you!"

Harry took the tray and set it on the small table next to the door. Rosie stood still watching him with an expression of wonder.

"The other house elves told me about you sir! I was excited to meet you. It's a great pleasure sir."

Harry was beginning to get a little freaked out by the young elves inability to blink.

"Ya, well thanks, I'm glad to have you to a, serve me." He wasn't sure if this was a proper compliment to a house elf, but fortunately it seemed to work, for she began to light up even more and grasp the sides of her uniform tightly.

"You are too kind sir; Rosie doesn't deserve a master who is so kind." And as he watched her stare at him adoringly, Harry was sure he saw a small tear drop roll down her gray cheek.

"Right… Well thanks Rosie, I'll be sure to call for you again if I need anything."

Rosie nodded heavily, her ears bobbing back and forth, then turned to walk back down the hall, all the while looking over her shoulder to watch Harry as he closed the door.

'House elves never cease to frighten me.' He thought merrily.

Sitting down with his light breakfast, Harry began eating while looking over the third year text book one more time. Hopefully today he could take a break from his work and walk to the lake. He missed its beauty in the summer.

* * *

Closet number nine. 

He stopped in front of the door and looked at it just as he had in the dream. There didn't seem to be anything unusual about it, it was just like the others. And yet he had the urge to open it. It was probably simply to prove to himself that there wasn't anything to fear behind it… but then again… what if there was…

Harry turned away quickly and continued walking. There was nothing to fear, he had to stop thinking like this or it would drive him mad.

* * *

The summer breeze felt amazing, fresh air was just what he needed to clear his mind. 

Why was it that no matter where he went there was bound to be something bent on haunting him, something that made his life a nightmare and wouldn't allow him sleep at night? It was a never ending battle… one that he would have to defeat if he had any hope of sleeping well this year.

Harry stopped at the lake and sat, looking out across its depths… when suddenly, he had an idea.

Hagrid. Of course.

Hagrid still worked at Hogwarts, he had almost forgotten. Hagrid would have never forgiven him if he hadn't dropped by to say hello. And maybe he would have some advice on the strange dream Harry had last night. Hagrid always seemed to have a carefree solution to everything.

"Drink a good sized ale before bed." He'd probably say… "That'll make ya sleep as soundly as ya can sleep."

Getting up, Harry made his way to the small hut at the bottom of the hill.

* * *

"Harry, come on in. I was wonderin when you were plannin on dropping by. I almost thought you'd forgotten about me." Hagrid joked playfully. 

"Na, you knew I'd come. I've just been a little preoccupied lately. I had a weird dream. Thought you might know something of it."

Hagrid looked at Harry with concern. "Well of course I'll try an' help. Don't know if I can though… not much of a dreamer myself; always drink a nice sized ale before I hit the sack."

Harry laughed aloud. It's funny sometime how well he knew his friends.

"Well, McGonagall made my rooms out of some closets in this basement below the stairs… do you know of it?"

"A course," Hagrid answered gleefully. "Used to have to carry all that heavy broken furniture down there. Yep… used to go down all the time. But they went and ran outta space… and besides there ain't as much stuff that needs movin'."

"So you used to go into the closets often then, the ones with the numbers."

"Yep, most of them have specific purposes. Yeh know, different things go in each one. But it's been awhile, an' they've gotten a little unorganized I guess yeh'd say… why are yeh asking me about this anyway?" He asked suddenly removed from his reverie.

"I had a dream that I was standing in front of one of the doors, door number nine. And I had the strangest feeling about it. Nothing I can really explain, but it was as if it wanted me to open it."

Hagrid looked up at the ceiling of the cottage, as if looking for the answer to be etched in the wood.

"Closet nine yeh say? You know what; I think that's the closet we store all the unused paintings in. The ones that were removed for some reason. But I don't remember goin in there more than once or so. Kinda made me sad, thinkin off all them. Dumbledore thought I was silly. Said I had no reason to be sad about a silly painting." He laughed a little, sadness in his eyes at the memory of the man he had so admired.

"I never had to put anything in there. There wasn't much of a need. Hogwarts hasn't removed a painting in a long time now."

Harry looked at him confused. Removing paintings, what was he talking about… and why would he be so sad.

"What do you mean, they remove paintings?" He asked.

"Yep, they used to do that sometimes yeh see. If it was givin the school trouble or somethin of the sort. Can't understand a painting bein of any trouble, but. Nevertheless, at least they don't do it anymore. Sad business removin paintings."

"Why? Why is it sad?"

Hagrid looked at him as if he'd just asked why the sky was blue… and then rolled his eyes and smirked.

"I forget sometimes that you didn't grow up a wizard Harry… Why, it's sad when a paintings removed from a wall because, well, you take away its life… and it's even sadder when their put in storage. Cause then their stuck like that, all frozen like one of them muggle pictures. No one to re hang it… Dumbledore tried to tell me that they didn't feel any different, they were just paintings. Said it could remain like that, all frozen for centuries and then be re hung one day and it feel like they simply dozed off and woke up a few minutes later…"

Hagrid shook his head as if he wasn't convinced this was true.

"I dunno though. Wish I could put them back up again, but I suppose Dumbledore was right, better to leave a sleepin dog lie. Them paintings were taken down for a reason. Not sure if I wanna find out why."

* * *

_WOW, look you finished reading the chapter... now go and review!_


	4. Utter Frustration

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Hey! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed its appreciated very much. I addressed lots of your questions at the end of the chapter, but I wanted to say quickly to everyone that this is definitely not your average story. It takes place at Hogwarts with a few Harry Potter characters, but doesn't thrive upon them, so don't sweat it if the specifics aren't mentioned. I like to live in my own happy place where everything is just as I want it to be… so don't be surprised if I slip in and out of it every once in awhile. _

_Keep up the reviews!_

_P.S. This chapter is a little bit longer than the others, but its sort of a filler, sorry about that._

* * *

'I still don't understand,' Harry thought to himself. Instead of finding answers he had only dug himself into more questions. 'What could possibly be in a room full of frozen paintings to concern me?' It was ridiculous. Truth be told Harry was beginning to think that no matter what he'd thought before, his better sense was taking over and convincing him it was just a stupid dream.

Well, at least he had had a decent afternoon with Hagrid. After they finished discussing the topic of closet number nine they moved on to a happier subject while thoroughly drowning themselves in butterbeer. Apparently Harry hadn't missed much while he was gone.

'Things aren't nearly as exciting at school without the great Harry Potter,' he thought sarcastically. Well it's all for the best really, he didn't want anymore adventure. That was something of the past.

The early afternoon air felt wonderful, and although he did have a lot of work to do, a few hours spent outdoors wasn't going to hurt. The forests surrounding the lake were especially green in the summer.

Harry headed around the side of the lake to a small grassy spot he had spotted in the distance. He hadn't slept very well last night and doubted he'd be able to sleep once he got back to his rooms with all the work he had to do.

Sitting down in front of the water Harry leaned back against the cool grass and wrapped his arms behind his head. Sighing, he closed his eyes, absorbing the wonderful feeling of complete relaxation… Come to think of it, he hadn't been this relaxed, and well, happy in a long time… It felt amazing.

And as he lay there, the sun beating down warmly, and the breeze blowing the leaves, Harry's mind once again began wandering, almost without his permission as he drifted off to sleep.

'Why did Ginny have to die? For once I had found happiness; hope in the distance, a future after all that pain… And now there's no way I could ever find love again. Who would want me? Broken and secluded, a forgotten hero, a name that will end up in story books and boring history lessons...'

'Was it really Ginny that I loved? Or was it the idea of love itself… the concept of a future spent with someone who cared for me? Well, whatever it was, I can never feel it again.'

And with that he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

"RON!" Hermione yelled at the top of her lungs.

Mrs. Weasley who sat across from her at the kitchen table chuckled. She remembered this stage of pre marital nerves.

Hermione stood up, abandoning the unfinished invitations and guest lists.

Fred and George chose that moment to walk in the front door talking noisily. They took one look at Hermione and stopped dead in their tracks.

"Uh oh, she's in one of those moods again." Fred said quietly. But obviously not quiet enough for Hermione shot them a deadly glare.

George gulped, perhaps now wasn't the best time to return home. "Well, we were just dropping by to get… uh." Fred picked up an umbrella that was leaning against the wall.

"An umbrella, and then were off again." Fred said nervously as Hermione continued to stare them down.

"It's not even raining." She said annoyed.

"Ya, well you never know. Crazy English weather… alright see you two later."

The two boys exited quickly the way they came. Hermione watched their sharp exit with utter annoyance.

"RON! I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DO NOT COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT THERE IS GOING TO BE HELL TO PAY."

Plopping back down with a huff, Hermione picked up another envelope and stuffed an invitation in hastily.

Ron came running down the stairs and stopped next to his bride to be, hugging her tightly and placing a light kiss against her cheek.

Hermione ignored him, annoyed that he wasn't as worried as she was that they didn't have enough invitations.

"What _were_ you doing?" She asked without even bothering to look at him.

"I got an OWL from professor McGonagall. Harry's working at Hogwarts now." He said merrily. It had been so long since they had seen him; in fact they weren't even sure where he had been for the past six months. Both of them had missed him dearly.

After the war their best friend had fallen into such a deep depression they didn't think he would ever pull out. Even as Ginny's own family, they were able to cope better than he was, and it had everyone worried.

Hermione looked up, a smile replacing the harsh smirk. "Oh my god! That's wonderful; do you think he would let us visit him? Do you think he'll come to the wedding? He _will_ come to the wedding right?"

Ron laughed at his fiancée's mood swings. "Well if we don't tell him were coming I'm sure he'll be happy to see us… McGonagall says that he seems a lot better than last time she saw him. At least there's improvement."

"And of course he'll come to the wedding love." He added, "we invited him already remember. We just need to send an invitation."

"Oh ya I forgot… not that we're going to have enough invitations mind you. The stupid printer didn't send us enough." She blared in frustration, slamming another empty envelope down.

"_Conduplico" _Ron said touching his wand to one of the invites.

Suddenly another card exactly resembling the one below it appeared.

Hermione gasped. "How could I have forgotten such an easy spell? I'm completely losing my touch." She said solemnly putting her forehead on the wooden table.

Ron sat down in the chair beside her and pulled her into his arms. "No your not, your just stressed, you're a brilliant witch."

Mrs. Weasley who had been sitting quietly addressing envelopes giggled at the sight of her son and his fiancée.

"You knew that spell the whole time didn't you?" Hermione asked looking across the table at her.

"Of course. But it was too fun watching you squirm."

Ron laughed and Hermione squealed in embarrassment before burying her head back into his chest.

* * *

By the time Harry had awoken the sun was beginning to set. He hastily composed himself and hurried back to the castle. He hated that feeling of losing an entire day to sleep. And not to mention the fact that he was completely starving.

He walked rapidly all the way to his rooms, so caught up in his hunger and frustration at sleeping a perfectly good day away that he passed the closet that had been haunting him all day without a second thought.

Once inside he went immediately to the fireplace in his study, ignoring the papers strewn across the desk. He might as well forget about work all together for today. He deserved a day off.

He pushed the nose of the lion, feeling completely stupid at having to commit such a bizarre act.

A squeaky voice came from the fireplace. "Yes sir? Can Rosie get sir something?"

Harry thought for a minute. It was nice being able to eat what ever he felt like with the push of a button… or nose in his case.

"A roast beef sandwich and… uh… chocolate ice cream, with chocolate sauce."

He was going to get fat with all this freedom if he wasn't careful.

"Will that be all for sir?"

"Ya, thanks Rosie." He said.

* * *

After Harry had eaten, he took a shower and spent the evening in front of the fire reading a book.

It held his attention nicely for a few hours, but as the night grew later and later, Harry began thinking of the mysterious closet once again.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't understand why the dream wouldn't leave him alone. If he didn't satisfy his curiosity soon it would drive him mad.

"No, I won't do it." He said aloud. "I won't get scared of a silly dream… I have to overcome this."

So with that thought in mind he turned the page and continued reading. And this seemed to work for awhile. But soon, the words weren't making any sense and the ticking of the grandfather clock was getting louder.

'But what if there is something behind that door that I'm supposed to find… and I never find it.'

Slamming the book on the ground, Harry stood up and went into his room to find a pair of shoes.

He would never find a moments peace again if he didn't give in and feed his hungry curiosity.

Walking out his front door, Harry sped down the hall and stopped facing the old brown door, with the number 9 etched elegantly into the wood.

* * *

**_NOW GO REVIEW! GO GO GO! _**

_Ok, so I really like to answer those of you who commented, but If I didn't, don't fret I will next time. _

_**Cian **– Heck yes Harry Potter fanfics rock! You're pretty cool I thought I'd just tell you that. And well, here ya go… chapter 4 points up and smiles_

**_SpiffySquee_**_ - I know I love Ginny too, and it is sad that she's dead. I didn't want to do it, I really didn't but the evil plot line monsters made me._

_**Feathers **- WOW! I love feathers! Not that that's relevant… anywho… Why is it called White Doves and Bluebells you ask? Well you'll just have to wait and find out, huh? And don't worry, give Harry some time and he'll be happy again, he's been through a lot._

**_dementorchic_**_– The next chapters the one! Then you'll finally know what's really behind the door._

_**Kiara Lupin** – wow, thanks for the compliment… I'm glad you like my writing; I just hope I don't let you down. Well, here ya go, more. And even more is definitely on its way._

_**Davy** – Thanks! I've always liked the name Davy by the way…like Davy Jones and Davy Crockett and… _

**_Fayt Linegod_**_ – Yea! I gave you a new chapter everyone cheers and what is that you say? GRAMATICAL ERRORS! Oh God! Goes and runs to check her writing again… and again… and again… and… can anyone say anal retentive?_

**_Sybyll_**_– Wow, questions questions questions. First off, yes indeed I will be updating everyday; I don't really have a life. But like I said, that could change soon. And sorry if I confused you about the time period, I'll try and state it more clearly later. Its about 6 to 7 years after Harry graduates from Hogwarts, he's 23 years old now. And it's towards the end of the summer, maybe mid August. _

_And no, I don't have it all written out, I write a new chapter as soon as I finish and post the one before it, but who knows I might get ahead of myself… But of course I have the general plotline down already… wouldn't want me coming to a standstill on account of writers block now would we?_

_And finally! Yes, I've read all the books. But like I said, I reserve the right to ignore anything I want to ignore. What happens in the books truly isn't that relevant. phew! I love you by the way… that was fun… _

_**Nottellin** – wow… do you wanna know why I like you? Because you addressed the two things that bugged me about my own story… Yes your right McGonagall doesn't giggle she really doesn't, and when I wrote that I sat back and thought… "McGonagall isn't this happy." But I guess what I'm trying to achieve is a McGonagall who isn't trying to be intimidating anymore, Harry is no longer her student. I guess she's trying to liven him up a bit. And yes, its true I can't write Hagrid for crap, I really didn't want to have to do it, but it was necessary. That may be the last time I have to for awhile though. ;)_

**_Sweet Murder_**_ – YEA! You're my new best friend OK? I love Snape too! He's quite possibly my all time favorite character. And in my "happy place" he's not bad, and is around saving the day. In fact if he fit in this story that's exactly what he's be doing, but he can't be. tear However maybe if you stick around with me for awhile yet, I'll start a story with Snape after I finish this one… I was actually planning on it. And to answer your other question about Dobby and Slughorn… seriously don't fret about them, I honestly don't plan on even mentioning them, their not really vital to the plot line. But I wish I could use Dobby he's my love… I'll think about it._

_Mmmmm…. Chocolate covered Snape, very tempting. lol._

**_Sometimesnormal_**_** – **Of course Hermione and Ron aren't dead! I'd cry! Points up Look their getting married! And as for Lupin? Well, I'm pretty sure I might use him… I haven't decided yet._

_**Joanna Potter** – mystery mystery mystery… always an excitement… And if you think its mysterious now! Just you wait!_

_**KT** – lol… my love! Hey babe… new socks and candy are pretty sweet. It took me awhile to figure out it was you. But Hi!  
I want candy, what are you saying you have candy? GIVE ME CANDY! Guess what I've decided just now? I'm going to write you into this story. Isn't that cool? You really should feel special… GO, feel special._


	5. Discovery

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Hello everyone! I'm really sorry I didn't update yesterday, but things came up and I didn't finish writing this chapter until after midnight, so I decided to wait and leave you in suspense. But tomorrow I will definitely post chapter six. _

_Now on with the show… and don't forget to review… every single one of you!_

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"When can we go see him?" Hermione asked as she lay against her fiancée's chest, finally relaxed after a very stressful and long day.

The young couple lounged on the soft old couch in front of the fire, relieved to be in a quiet house now that the rest of the family had gone off to bed.

"We could go tomorrow if you want. Do we have anything planned?"

Well… 'The fitting for the dresses aren't until Monday,' Hermione pondered, and the meeting with the florist was Friday…

Luckily Ron had taken a week off from his ministry job to spend with her, so they didn't have to worry about that either.

He was happy to be working under his father; it was easy for him to take time off for preparations, not to mention a long honeymoon. And Mr. Weasley swore to never call his son in after hours unless completely necessary once Ron was married.

Hermione had taken up a part time job as a potions research assistant. It paid decent and kept her ever active mind stimulated. But most importantly would leave her a good amount of time at home. But she didn't need to go in tomorrow.

"Ya, I think we're completely free," she said happily. It was true they could finally take a day off from all the hustle bustle and visit their best friend.

Ron wrapped his arm around her, and used the other to play with her hair, lightly brushing it away from her eyes.

It amused him how her hair never truly calmed down. But that, like so many other traits, were exactly why he loved her.

Yawning, Hermione turned to her side and closed her eyes, content to be in the arms of the man she loved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nine Marshmallows."

Silence.

At first nothing happened… He wasn't sure what he was expecting, whether it be the quiet click of an unlocking door, or a large triumphant bang. Whether he expected the door to creek open slowly like a muggle horror film… or to blast open revealing its secret instantly. He didn't know.

But he expected something.

Maybe McGonagall had been wrong, perhaps this silly password wasn't the way to open the door.

Harry reached out slowly and took the doorknob in his hand… Or perhaps it was as simple as just opening it.

Turning the knob, Harry was both relieved and frightened to find it turn completely and the door push forward. Hesitantly he pressed it in even farther until he could see completely inside.

What shocked him the most was that he didn't find a dark and eerie room as he had expected. No, the room was bathed in a gentle moonlight that streamed in through a window high upon the opposite wall.

Like his rooms, the closet also had elegantly high walls that reached up to a curved ceiling. If it wasn't for its dusty bareness, the room would be exquisite.

Harry stepped in completely and shut the door behind him. There was no fear or hesitation, but rather a peaceful calm.

'And this is the room I have been afraid of all day.' Harry thought gazing around at what looked to be covered picture frames.

Some were small and some enormous, but all were set upon a table or leaned against a wall. And others still were in tall stacks on the ground.

He supposed it wouldn't hurt to take a better look around, for suddenly his curiosity to discover the secrets of these so called "frozen paintings" was taking a hold of him.

Truth be told, he still didn't fully understand the concept of a painting being frozen. It made sense of course that if a wizard no longer had use for one that it would be kinder to freeze it than leave it in a closet somewhere, in the dark.

Harry had never thought too much about paintings before. He had always disregarded them as just another weird aspect of the wizarding world.

But did they in fact have emotions? Could the think and feel?

Well of course they could. You could have carried out a full conversation with the fat lady. It's just that no one ever cared to. She could see you coming towards her, and had always recognized him. When Sirius had tried to come into the dormitories, hadn't she known not to just let him through, and then fled in fright when he slashed her canvas?

It's strange sometimes the things one ignores when they don't stop to think about them.

Harry sighed; maybe he was just over thinking all of this.

Moving forward he spotted a lone frame set against the wall. Pulling back the sheet, he couldn't help but laugh. It showed a very old man wearing an evening coat sitting in an arm chair. The painting looked like many of the others in the castle, however this one was different. The man was leaning over the chair, his hand on a cane, as if struggling to get up. His face held an angry stare and his mouth was open as if he had been yelling at some one, while his other hand pointed out in a reprehensive gesture.

Harry could only guess why this one had need of freezing.

Dropping the sheet he moved on to a small stack of frames resting atop a table to his right. 'This is actually quite fun.' Harry thought merrily.

As he sorted through the stack of paintings, more often than not he found each one to be a frozen scene of chaos… something that had obviously caused a disturbance.

One was of a war scene, cloudy with smoke and dozens of cannons shooting out angry red flares. Hundreds of soldiers that were screaming at the opposing side.

Another was of a tired looking woman holding two small infants, while three other children were busy at play around her ankles.

And yet another was of three dogs. Two were fighting angrily with each other, and the other was barking loudly at its viewer.

And on and on he looked. But none of the paintings he saw were particularly frightening, none of them seemed to mean anything to him. But all of them were loud and harsh, even in their frozen state.

'I just don't understand.' Harry thought, becoming frustrated. As entertaining as all this was, he still felt as though he needed to find something more, something that meant something to him, or sparked some kind of feeling, any feeling.

Deciding that perhaps there was nothing else to find, he walked back towards the door, brushing off dust that had landed on his robes.

And just as he went to open the door, he heard something.

No, that was the wrong word. He didn't hear anything at all, no noise was uttered, but like a wind tickling a branch, averting someone's glance if only for a moment, Harry's gaze was drawn to his left. And there he saw it.

He was surprised he hadn't seen it before, for this frame was particularly odd.

This frame, unlike the others did not lean with its back against the wall. Rather, its covered front faced the wall, while its back looked forward.

'That's odd,' Harry thought. Well, it wasn't all together that odd come to think of it. It was the fact that all the other paintings faced forward, except for this one that made it stand out.

Harry let go of the door knob and stepped toward it. Suddenly the fear he had when first entering this room had returned. For now, he did feel something. A calling towards this painting.

Taking its edges in his hands he turned it around to face him, and softly leaned it back against the wall. And with a deep breath, Harry grasped the corner of the cloth and with one fluid motion, pulled it free.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**_Now review unless you want me to send a hex your way!_**

**_dementorchic_** _– I know! I love Ron and Hermione too, and I love to write them. And although, I'd love to say "wait and see" in response to your question about Ginny being alive, I think that would be too mean. Sorry to say, Ginny is dead, and I have no intent of reintroducing her into the story. However, I reserve the right to change my mind in that respect! You never know what may happen._

**_Kizee_**_**** - WHAT! Rosie's your name! Wow, that's really exciting. Ok then, its official. Since I consider this to be the workings of my expert physic mind powers, I hereby make Rosie you in elf form. As long as you don't mind being an elf that is. _

**_Sybyll_**_ – I love long reviews too… cause then I can write really long review responses! And what is this you say? You don't review very often? Gasp! _

_Well hey, I've got an idea… why don't you start by reviewing every chapter here on out! And then I can dedicate a chapter to you at the end since you'll be the cool reviewer who put in the most reviews! Hooray doesn't that sound fun! _

_**Joanna Potter** – Here you go, now you know what's in closet number nine… aren't you excited? Well, actually you don't know about the important thing in closet number nine yet… suspense for the next chapter I suppose. _

_**KT **– Hahaha! Too bad for you, but you get a much larger part than a cameo, sorry love; you really will have to get used to being famous. And what makes you think I'm going to tell you what happens next, just cause you're my best friend! WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL! _

_I want starbursts please._


	6. White Doves and Bluebells

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_This chapter is a little longer than usual, just as some of you had requested. I hope you enjoy. And sorry for posting so late, but I did post before midnight, 11:57 to be exact, so you cant say I broke my promise._

* * *

His heart stopped… if only for a moment as he took in the sight before him.

'Why,' he thought, 'could something as exquisite as this be removed from a wall… any surface for that matter that one might have the pleasure to look upon.'

Harry lowered himself very ungracefully to the dusty floor, and sat in front of the painting.

Whether it be shock or delight, he did not know. But what he did know, for absolute certain, and without a doubt, was that he had found what had been calling out to him. He had found something that most certainly sparked a feeling within him.

But the problem was that he couldn't decide what that feeling was. Was it bafflement, surprise or confusion… Was awe or was it admiration? Was it intrigue and wonderment? Was it infatuation… or was it… love?

The thought in of its self was absurd in the highest regard. But there was a truth in it, no matter how strange.

Reaching out, he touched the canvas softly. It felt cold and lifeless, but how could something so beautiful be cold?

Tracing the soft lines of the paint, Harry took in the glory that was before him.

A woman, no older than he graced the canvas. She sat atop a very low wall, and leaned back against another behind her. She wore a blue dress of soft summer cotton that tied lightly about her waist. It was full, but draped breathlessly to the ground below her as if it weigh nothing at all.

Her shoulders were bare, but for a thin strap that held the dress in place. And around her neck was a silver chain that disappeared under the delicate lace that graced her front.

In one hand she held a fan, outstretched against her thigh, though the weather looked fair and cool.

Her hair was the most beautiful shade of brown, so that when the sun shone upon it, it almost looked red. It was wavy and would have fallen just below her shoulders if it hadn't been pulled back, delicately revealing her face.

And this for certain, was what held Harry's attention most adoringly.

The woman held her chin upon her small fist, her elbow on her leg, gracefully resting.

She looked off in the distance, revealing only half her complexion. She seemed to be looking down at something below the wall on which she was resting. She saw something there that pleased her, something that, to Harry's delight, had coaxed the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

And though she appeared to wear no make up, her lips were the most perfect shade of peach. Her lashes full and black as they cast downward, just enough as not to hide her beautiful blue eyes.

Behind her, far off in the distance were trees, green and blowing in a soft wind, almost blurry as not to distract from her beauty.

And finally behind her there was a vase. An exquisite vase, tall and white that held soft pink flowers

And on the vase were the most elegantly painted… white doves and bluebells.

* * *

Ron and Hermione walked up the hill toward the castle before them, glorious in the morning light. It had been too long since they had seen their old school, nor their friend.

"You did tell McGonagall we were coming didn't you?" Hermione asked.

"No. Why, should I of?" Ron asked puzzled.

"Ronald! Yes, you should have told her, it's completely impolite to show up anywhere uninvited. If she's angry I'm leaving you to deal with her all by yourself."

Ron laughed, "Hermione don't worry, she told us about Harry because she was hoping we would come and cheer him up a little. I don't think she's going to be angry."

The pair had reached the small doors that we're always left unlocked for visitors.

"Let's hope so, for your sake."

* * *

Harry woke up and stretched, his body relaxed from finally achieving a good nights sleep. Tonight had been filled with dreams as well, but unlike the night before, these had him smiling as he woke.

No matter what he did he couldn't get her face out of him mind, her smile. It simply wasn't possible that a painting such as that deserved to be locked in a closet. It didn't make any sense.

Getting up, he cast a quick spell to make his bed, and then headed into the bathroom to take a shower, and once he was ready he would hit the library. He was going to figure out what was needed to bring life back to that magnificent picture.

If only he had Hermione to help him now.

Harry headed out of his chambers later that morning, clean, and thoroughly fed with one too many pancakes. He knew he'd miss another full day of work, but frankly didn't care; he would just have to work even harder to be ready for the classes that started in less than two weeks.

He wondered if McGonagall would allow him to remove the painting and move it to his rooms. He wondered if she would even notice.

And then he wondered, as he sped along the corridors toward the library… how wise it would be to recover the picture. He couldn't imagine what harm would come by restoring it. But nevertheless it scared him, selfishly it scared him. It already scared him to discover such strong feelings for something as inanimate as a painting, but what might become of them if the woman became more than a still figure. What kind of pain might that inflict upon him?

Suddenly Harry was frightened and confused, once again.

And then, as he was deep in thought and moving with his eyes cast downward at the dark floors, he heard a noise that had been foreign to him for far too long.

"HARRY!"

He would know that voice anywhere, even though he hadn't heard it in ages. Looking up, he saw Hermione running towards him, a huge smile stretched across her face. And behind her was Ron, smiling broadly as he moved briskly, but perhaps not quite so briskly towards him from the opposite side of the long Hogwarts corridor.

Hermione pounded into him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing the air from his lungs. He was shocked to say the least, he had no idea they were coming, he had no idea in fact that they were planning to ever see him again.

'How can they not be angry with me,' he thought to himself? 'I have virtually ignored them for almost a year, and yet they act like I had simply left on a very long holiday.'

Harry still couldn't diminish the look of complete shock from his face as Ron inched closer, and Hermione loosened her death grip and stood back.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Ron exclaimed with his hands in his pockets, grinning wildly.

Harry let out a sharp breath, "How… how could you not be angry at me?" he asked bewildered.

"Angry? Why should we be angry?" Hermione questioned, hooking her arm around Ron's elbow.

"I've, ignored you." Harry said quietly, on the verge of tears that his best friends could be so forgiving. He was so sure he'd screwed up beyond repair, that he hadn't even bothered trying to contact them; he didn't want to face the rejection and pain.

Ron sighed. "Harry, there isn't anything you could possibly do to lose our friendship; we will always be here, especially during your hard times."

Harry smiled at this, truly smiled. He hadn't wanted any sort of companionship in his life for so long; he didn't want to see others happy when he couldn't be. But as he stood in front of his best friends, he realized how much he needed them, and how glad he was to hear their voices, telling him they would always be there.

Ron broke the silence by stepping forward and throwing his arms around him, who returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, still trying to keep his cool and not cry. The boys opened their arms to include Hermione. She however wasn't trying so hard to hold back the tears.

When they finally broke apart, Harry had forgotten about his trip to the library, for right now, his friends were much more important.

"Come on, I'll show you my new rooms, there huge, and then we can catch up. I need to know everything I've missed, absolutely everything."

The three walked back the way Harry had come in silence, none sure what to say next.

"I can't believe you never came to see us." Ron joked, faking an angry stare.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped from beside him.

And together they laughed as they walked on down the hall.

* * *

"Sit anywhere and I'll get us something to eat. What do you want? Anything." Harry exclaimed when he had finished his enthusiastic tour. Hermione had been especially appreciative, enchanted by the beautiful woods and fabrics.

"Anything?" Ron asked smiling widely.

"Yea, I have a house elf now; she'll bring us any food you ask for."

Ron's eyes had grown to almost double their size; however Hermione didn't look quite so pleased.

"I can't believe your encouraging this Harry… I thought you had finally agreed with me."

"Oh come off it Hermione, and just let it bring us some food." Ron said annoyed.

"I can't believe you, you just called her an it! She is not an it, she is a living breathing creature with a name and feelings."

"Will it bring us ice cream, and butterbeer, and, and pizza, will it bring us pizza Harry?" Ron was almost jumping up and down with joy.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled pushing him, but he was ignoring her, his stomach having taken over completely.

Harry laughed at the sight of them. They were getting married in a month and they hadn't changed a bit since they were school kids.

"Yes Ron, I'll have her bring up all those things, and Hermione, if it makes you feel any better I'll ask Rosie if she wants me to start paying her." And with that he slipped into his study to floo the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry's small dinner table was cluttered with plates of half eaten pizza, empty cups of butterbeer and ice cream bowls.

Harry, Hermione and Ron, had been talking and laughing for hours, as if nothing had happened between them, and Harry really had simply returned from a very long holiday. He learned that they were planning to have the wedding somewhere in Scotland, and that Harry was expected to be the best man.

None of them had brought up Ginny, too afraid of the emotions that might resurface. Now was simply not the right time, they didn't want to ruin such a happy occasion with tears.

However, there was one thing that Harry had yet to mention, something he wasn't sure he even wanted to bring up. He couldn't predict what their reaction would be… but his hesitation was quickly overcome by the urge to reveal his discovery. They were his best friends after all, and perhaps they would know what to do.

Harry set the now cold piece of pizza on a plate and looked across the table.

"You guys, I have something to show you."

* * *

_**Carter **– LOL… well, first off I despise Steven King, I can't stand scary things. shivers and besides I can assure you that this story will definitely be nothing like a Steven King novel, not in the slightest. Might I repeat one word…? Fluffy._

**_Sybyll_**_ – No, I'm not going to end it before the students come back, we'll get there pretty soon, don't you worry. The chapters are going to move along much faster here soon._

_And I ramble too. It makes us cool._

**_IshTara_**_ – Thanks for the complements! You're wonderful. And yes, I adore Remus and Sirius too, I wish I could include them more, but I don't think I can… tear And I hope you like what's coming up here next as well…_

**_dementorchic_**_ – YAY! Now you've seen the painting! But I assure you there's more to it than what appears. Wow, I'm excited… even though I know what's going to happen. Hmmm. _

_I like cliffhangers too by the way, their fun, especially when you're the one giving them. Hehe. _

_**KT **– I'm a pirate. Didn't you know?_


	7. Reparo

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer_

_Alright so I have a few things to say this time. First off, I want everyone to know that the updates are going to slow down just a little bit. I started school today and have quite a load of classes to juggle. But you know that I want to be here writing, so be assured I'll still update regularly. But more like every two or three days._

_And then I have a little confession, I just wanted to say that I completely hate this chapter and the one before it, not sure why, but I just don't. I think it's because they lead up to the big bang of a surprise and it bothers me that I have to meddle to get the story where it needs to be. And maybe I'm wrong and everyone loves them (you don't have to lie for me by the way. lol) but soon the story is going to be moving along the road I've been hungry for it to be on, I promise. And yes, this is a romance fic for a reason… just hold on a little longer and we'll all find out why. Ok… now read!_

* * *

"Harry, where are we?" Hermione asked as she looked into the closet of dust and disarray. 

Harry smiled weakly, still unsure of their reaction, not to mention still unsure of his own reaction to the feelings he was having.

"We're in a closet." He answered, nodding towards the stacks of frames.

"Yes Harry, we did figure that much out for ourselves, the question is _why_ we are in a closet?" She questioned… Hermione almost wanted to laugh at her best friend's uncanny sense of adventure. The first day they were all together again, and she had a feeling in the gut of her stomach it would be another mystery to solve and adventure to risk their lives on. Goodie.

As Harry looked at the pair standing at the door, he saw the eleven year old students from years ago once again. They knew him all to well, and was sure neither of them thought he was planning on showing an antique china cabinet he was thinking of adding to the living room.

There was the prospect of adventure in Ron's eyes and the guarded curiosity in Hermione's. A guard he knew she would drop as soon as she had her head buried in a book.

'I guess it would be best to start from the beginning… it would make more sense.' He thought. And with that, started his story.

"This is going to sound really strange, but it's been pressing on me for days, and now, well, now it's even worse… and… I'm not even sure how I feel about this or what it is I'm supposed to feel. And I really don't know what I'm supposed to do about it but…" At the confused expression on his friends face he knew he wasn't making any sense.

"You know what, I'm just going to start at the beginning, and if you think I'm crazy than so be it." Harry said leaning against a dusty table and rubbing his thumb across his eyes.

"We won't think your crazy Harry," Ron said laughing, "I doubt it can compete with the other insane things we've been through together, no matter what it is."

"You're probably right." Harry said grinning as the memories of his many adventures at Hogwarts came flooding back.

"So, it was the fourth or fifth night I was here, I can't remember exactly. But I had this dream, and well, since the war I've had my fair share of dreams that woke me up at night, but all of them are just horrible memories, things I can't forget even in my sleep. But this dream was different, it was the strangest dream I've ever had" He said solemnly.

And as Harry continued to tell them of the meeting with Hagrid, and learning of these frozen paintings, of his visit to the closet late last night and the funny images he found. Hermione and Ron were becoming more and more entranced.

"And then I found this." Harry was standing next to the painting he had found the night before, no longer covered by the old stale cloth. "And I can't even explain to you what it felt like when I saw her, but I can't help but think I was supposed to find this for some reason, I don't know why, but it wanted to be found."

The two others had now stepped around a small table so they could get a better look. Hermione smiled sweetly.

"Do either of you feel any different at all when you look at it, at her?" he asked gazing down upon it, once again feeling breathless.

"It's a gorgeous painting Harry, but no I don't." Hermione answered.

"Ya she's beautiful, but she's just a painting… And I don't mean to bust your bubble, but we've had to freeze painting before Harry and l can promise you that we had reason to. There is always a reason why a painting needs to be frozen." Ron added shrugging.

"Don't be ridiculous Ron, what harm could a painting possibly do?" his fiancée asked, ever annoyed at his hang ups with wizarding tradition.

"Suit yourself, but I sure wouldn't want any of those paintings in the closet at home put up again."

Harry looked down at the pure beauty of her; surely there couldn't be any harm. Could there?

"Well, I want to unfreeze it, I need to do it, I need to know." He said looking across at them. "Do you two know the spell?" He asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nope, my mum always did that stuff."

Hermione nodded, "its simple magic I'm sure Harry, something you'd find in a household help book… I've just never needed something like that."

"I don't care, I just want to know, and besides what's the worst that could happen, you can always change it right back again cant you?"

"I suppose so," she said thinking hard, "Well have to go look…"

"In the library?" the two boys said in unison.

"Ha Ha, very funny." She snapped before turning around to leave, all the while trying to ignore their laughter.

* * *

The two wizards sat at a table in the empty library looking through books of common spells. 

Hermione came around the corner and placed a few more on the table, and taking one from the top sat down to begin searching.

"One of Lockhart's books?" Harry questioned sarcastically. "You know full well the guy was a loon."

"Just because he wasn't all he seemed, doesn't mean his books aren't helpful, they wouldn't have sold so well if they hadn't worked."

The boys rolled their eyes and continued looking, but not having any success as the passed dozens of cleaning spells and cooking charms. And then, a few minutes later Hermione made a loud noise of achievement.

"See I told you, his books have everything." Laying it down flat she began to read.

"_In the case of an annoying and disruptive painting or picture in your home that needs removing, simply point your wand at the center and cast 'conquiesco', and it will forever be still and you will be free to store it away at your leisure. However if you wish to restore a painting from its frozen state, hang or place it level to your eyes and cast 'reparo' to restore it to its original state."_

She looked up at them and smiled, clearly proud of herself. "You see it's easy."

Harry felt his breath hitch and his stomach turn, he was scared to do it, and he wondered if it would help to have his friends with him when he cast the spell…

"Will you come with me to do it then?"

Ron was clearly stuck on his beliefs but nodded his head anyways. "Of course we'll come if it means that much to you, but I think it's a mistake."

"I know," Harry sighed, "It probably is, but I won't be able to rest with the knowledge now. Please come with me, and if something terrible happens we'll just recast the spell. Simple as that."

Ron nodded and Hermione gathered up the books to go replace them on the shelves.

* * *

The three stood in front of the painting in a sort of semi circle. Harry had placed it on top of a table facing them coldly. 

There was an uncomfortable silence as Harry stood, pointing his wand out in front of him.

"Harry? Are you going to do it or do you need help?" Ron whispered leaning over a bit.

"Let him take his time Ronald."

The three returned their gazed forward… "Ok, on the count of three," Harry said, his voice tight. "One… two… three…" and holding his breath he lifted the wand and as clearly as he could, spoke the spell.

"Reparo."

They stood staring at it in silence, calmly waiting for something to happen.

Nothing, not even the leaves had begun to move.

It hadn't worked.

* * *

**_Go review... come on now... WHY ARENT YOU REVIEWING? GO!_**

**_IshTara_**_ – Yes, there is definitely a reason the painting is hidden away in a cellar. The question is. Why? Wow. Look how cool I am, I'm being secretive and suspenseful in a review response. _

_Well, anyway, yes I wish I could have one of them to myself as well couch Sirius couch_

**_Sybyll_**_ – Hmmm. Yes you could say Harry has a crush on a painting. However just between you and me (and whoever else cares to read this) there is a lot more to why he has feelings for it, or her, then what appears… winkwink_

_**KT** – It scares me when you talk pirate. Hey thanks for the candy, it was exciting! _


	8. Forgiveness

Refer to chapter one for disclaimer.

Wow, I'm immensely sorry at how long this update took. But the whole first week of school thing has been stressful. However tomorrow is Friday and you can expect at least two updates this weekend.

And I know a bunch of you have asked for a longer chapter, and I intended this to be just that. But it didn't work out. Now don't fret for the next chapter will be nice and long for you if I can at all help it.

So on with the show.

* * *

"That's strange." Hermione said biting her thumbnail in confusion.

"I told you as much… Lockhart is completely incompetent." Ron was clearly unaffected by the fact nothing had happened, assuming it was all for the best.

"No. No I don't think that's what it is." Hermione said looking around the room, her mind racing. "Harry, try the spell on another frame and see what happens."

Nodding he ran over to the table at the other side of the room. It both relieved and frustrated him that the painting didn't come to life. He wanted so badly to see her smile at him, to hear how she sounded when she spoke, the way her hair shone when she moved. But on the other hand it kept the mystery of her frozen state from revealing itself. He couldn't decide which was better.

He found the small thin painting of three dogs from the pile and brought it back to be placed on the table.

"Alright. Ready Harry?"

He nodded giving her a crooked smile. Pointing his wand once again he spoke the spell.

Immediately the dogs flung forward their loud barks echoing through the room in painfully sharp yips.

"Harry! Cast the spell and turn it back for gods' sake!" Ron yelled over the noise.

"I can't remember it!"

"Conquiesco!" Hermione shouted.

"What?"

"CONQUIESCO!" She shouted louder this time. But he just shook his head, still unable to hear.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and taking out her wand shoved him aside. The spoken spell worked as if pushing a pause button, and almost instantly the dogs stopped, dead in their tracks. She looked over her shoulder.

"It's not the spell. It's the painting."

Harry nodded sadly; somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach he knew this was the case. Now the problem was what to do next… he still felt that there had to be something more, something he was missing, and he couldn't erase it from his mind.

"Its alright you guys. Maybe Ron is right, and its all for the best. Maybe I'm just not supposed to know." He commented gravely.

His two best friends smiled encouragingly. "It could be a muggle painting Harry." Ron suggested.

"I doubt is Ronald," Hermione said looking up at him, "Haven't you ever read 'Hogwarts a History'? Hogwarts has never hung a muggle painting on its walls before, so why would there be one in its basement?"

Ron shrugged, "I was just saying, that's the most logical solution."

Harry had to agree it was logical, but unlikely. Hermione was right Hogwarts has never housed muggle paintings. "With my luck Ron it's much more complicated than that, when has anything I set my mind to been easy?"

"I guess your right."

* * *

Later that evening Harry sat alone at his desk, flipping through the fourth year material having finally returned to his work.

Hermione and Ron had stayed a short while longer until McGonagall had paid Harry a surprise visit to see if he needed anything. Needless to say she wasn't too glad to find two of her most troublesome ex students lurking around Hogwarts without her knowledge.

They chose that time to say their goodbyes claiming they needed sleep for work in the morning. But Harry was inclined to believe they were simply avoiding conversation with McGonagall. Not that he blamed them.

And now as he sat, quietly working, he made a commitment to himself. He would worry no more about the silly painting. He was a grown man, not a school boy. He no longer had time to explore meaningless mysteries. And besides, he really did have a lot of work to do.

* * *

"Don't touch me." Hermione snapped from her seat on the couch.

She and Ron were once again the only ones awake in the small house. They had made it a habit to stay up an hour or two after everyone else had fallen asleep. Ever since Hermione had moved in to the Weasley house to be close to Ron, and not confined to her muggle home, they rarely found time alone.

Tonight however wasn't quite as pleasant as usual.

When the two had returned home from Hogwarts, Hermione was already a bit frustrated with her fiancée. He hadn't acted so immature and unfeeling towards her in a long time. But she had looked past it, thinking boys will be boys.

But as fate would have it, her frustration wasn't easily brushed away. And though she hated to admit it, she _was_ stubborn beyond all reason. And an already upset Hermione isn't one to toy with.

"Hermione," Ron tried again, standing behind her. Frankly he was too afraid to face anything but her mess of curly hair. He had a feeling the other side wasn't quite as pleasant.

Ron rubbed his fingers over his eyes roughly. He knew he was screwed this time, and if he could fix it he would, but the problem was he had no idea where to start.

Yes, he had committed the worst crime a man can possibly commit when getting married.

Yes, he had lost her wedding ring.

And he had no idea where he had left it. So now, not only did he have to grovel for losing the most important element of the wedding. But he had to grovel for being a "jerk" that afternoon as Hermione described it. In his opinion he hadn't done anything wrong, but now was definitely not the time to argue. Besides he couldn't stand to see her angry, and he had other screw ups to worry about.

"Hermione I swear to god I'll find it, it probably just feel into a drawer somewhere. You know how crazy this house is. And if it means I have to rip the house to shreds to find it, I will. I'm so sorry." Ron wanted to reach out and touch her, try and have her forgiveness, but he knew she wasn't easily bought out.

Hermione turned, shunning him more if possible.

Growling in frustration under his breath Ron racked his brain for something, anything that would gain him the upper hand, anything that would melt her down.

"Hermione, you know I love you more than I can express. I would never do anything to hurt you purposely. I just want you to be happy, and I wish you would forgive me and let me make all this better. Please my love. And if you want to stay mad at me forever than that's fine, I deserve it."

He stared at her for a minute longer, hoping she would move or at least give him some idea of what to do next. But she was stone.

Defeated he turned and walked to the door of the study they had been sitting in by the fire. "I'll sleep in Charlie's Room, you can have our bed." He said sadly.

And then from behind, just as he was about to walk upstairs, he heard his name spoken through muffled tears.

Hermione had stood up and was wearing the sweet grin he loved so much, small wet lines on her cheeks.

Hermione couldn't hold them back any longer, when the few fights between them did occur it was impossible to hold her anger for too long, just that sad look of defeat made her crumble with love for him.

Running to him as quickly as possible, she pulled him against her in a searing kiss. After a moment of initial shock he loosened and wrapped his arms around her back pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with fervor…

Ron was relieved to say the least at such an enthusiastic forgiveness, he had expected a lonely night and a morning of groveling… apparently he was wrong.

* * *

Ron awoke still on the large soft old couch. It was very early morning, the cool summer night's breeze blowing through a small window across the room. Hermione lay nuzzled beside him, having also fallen asleep after their quite passionate episode earlier that evening.

Ron was glad that his family not only slept very soundly, but also never frequented the quiet secluded study. More than anything he was excited that he and Hermione would soon have their own home, and their own family.

Smiling at the thought he turned slightly, stretching his back. And just as he did, he felt something poke at him from under one of the large cushion they were laying upon. Reaching between the crack of the couch, Ron pulled out a small black box.

Chuckling he placed it back where he found it for safe keeping until the morning. Now he was really forgiven, he was sure of it.

* * *

**_dementorchic_**_– Hooray, and I know school is icky. But it's good for us. And I hope to reveal some more stuff very soon. I'm getting excited about what's coming up, so I don't think I'll be able to twiddle too long. _

**_IshTara_**_ – Ya, your right, either one would do. I'm not picky at all, I have absolutely no preference. Not even a little bit. Nope. _

_cough SIRIUS! cough_

_**Sdg** – Yea! Thanks for the compliment! I hope you review some more._

**_ProphecyProtector_**_– lol. Yes, well you'll just have to wait and see. But I'm glad your trying to work out theories… it enhances the suspense factor. Or something like that. _

**_humor my lips_**_ – I totally wanted to make it long for you, but I just couldn't. But like I said next chapter will be like the super doper long chapter that shocks everyone cause no one thought I was capable. And lots of stuff is going to happen too. So hooray! Update more ok! Ok._

**_Sybyll_**_ – wow! That's a lot of theories. But I'm not telling you yet. Haha!_

_You know what… you're proving to be very useful. Although I already have the plot worked out, your reviews have given me some pretty good ideas on how to present things when I write. I thought I'd tell you that. So you really should keep reviewing. I'm making very good use of you!_

_**KT** – katie katie bo batie. Banana fanna fo fatie. Fe fi mo matie. Kaaatie._

_THE NAME GAME!_


	9. The Six Words

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Ok, so I'm excited about this chapter because I consider it the turning point in the story. Hooray! Ok, so this is a little bit longer than usual like I promised, I hope you're all proud of me. So enough of me talking, lets move on!_

_I hope you enjoy! _

* * *

_Almost three weeks later _

Harry plopped down at the head table in the great hall for dinner. The first week of school had proven to be, just as he'd expected, hectic. But now it was Friday and he was glad to have at least part of the weekend to rest. Sunday was Ron and Hermione's wedding, and as the best man he would be busy to say the least.

When he had been a student, he was sure he had it far worse off than the teachers… Oh, was he wrong. His classes had not been going as planned… At the very least he was unable to get all the material across, or else there was some kind of a problem between the students.

It was interesting seeing Hogwarts through the eyes of a professor… difficult, but still interesting.

Today however, Harry had begun to wonder if this job wasn't just another change, another escape from reality hoping to find his perfect nitch, a nitch he wasn't sure even existed.

He always had this thought no matter what it was he chose to do… the feeling that what he has just wasn't quite enough, that there's something out there waiting for him.

Harry shook away the thought and looked down at the food below him. No. perfection just wasn't meant for The Great Harry Potter. He was destined to never be completely happy. And this was why he would stay at Hogwarts and work, living the half life he had become accustomed to. There was no where else for him to go where things could be any better… besides at least here he had his memories.

"You look forlorn tonight Harry… did everything go alright today?" McGonagall asked, looking down at Harry from her seat in the center of the table.

"Oh, ya. Thanks… I'm just a little tired, that's all."

McGonagall smiled and went on with her conversation with the new charms teacher.

Most of the professors had learnt that Harry wasn't much of a socialite. He spoke only when prompted to, and almost never on his own accord… and if he did, it was always for business purposes, Harry hated small talk.

Finishing his food as quickly as he could he slipped out unnoticed to return to his rooms. He chose to merely make an appearance at meals and not linger. He hated all the noise.

Finally reaching his rooms after the long walk through quiet halls, Harry spotted a brown owl standing in front of his door a letter attached to its leg.

He bent down and untied the white envelope from its leg. The owl looked up at him curiously, and as if assessing him.

Opening the door, he entered letter in hand. The bird flew by him and landed on his table next to a plate of cookie crumbs from the previous night.

The room was dark as always, aside from the small scones of light on the walls that barely illuminated the already dark interiors. The air around him was warm and made him itch in frustration, as heat always did. Taking out his wand Harry cast a cooling spell, and it instantly became comfortable.

He sat in the center of his couch and rolled his head from side to side, the muscles tense and his head pounding. Finally he turned his attention to the envelope in his hand.

It was addressed in very neat and clear handwriting, probably that of a woman. He turned it over and ripped open the parchment. Inside was a crisp white piece of paper, much like the stationary Aunt Petunia used to keep. In fact, the entire letter very much resembled a muggle letter, aside from the fact that it had no return address and was delivered by owl.

Unfolding the paper he began to read.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I have been asked to owl you this letter on behalf of my grandmother… She has requested an audience with you as soon as possible. I do not know what the nature of this meeting is, but she seems quite anxious to see you. I ask you to please not disregard this request. My grandmother is not the type to be so mysterious. She is very sick Mr. Potter and as of a couple of nights ago has been extremely distressed and speaks of nothing but her desire to speak with you. Please come and settle her nerves, she would not ask for you to travel the distance if it were not very important. _

_My Grandmother lives about twenty miles north of Muggle London… the address is 753 Wraysbury Rd. I will be there if and when you arrive._

_On that note, if you intend to come, please send us word, she is anxious to know._

_Thank you._

_Ms. Carla Baker_

Harry set the letter down on his knee. It was strange indeed, and of course he would not ignore this woman's wishes whatever they may be. He had a feeling from the urgency in the letter that it was certainly important…

He looked up at the brown owl that was still picking away at the plate, now almost spotless.

Harry walked into his study and wrote a brief message on a piece of parchment.

_Dear Ms. Baker,_

_I would be glad to come, and if all goes well I should be able to arrive by mid morning tomorrow, Saturday September 4th. _

_Always, _

_Harry Potter._

Rolling up the parchment he walked back into the entry room and tied it to the bird's leg before opening his door to let it fly out.

Harry watched it fly down the hall, intrigued by the strange request… and then suddenly very frustrated at having to make his way all the way into London.

Well at least he had an apparition license now.

* * *

The morning found Harry dressed and clean, with the letter folded away and in the back pocket of his jeans. He always liked wearing muggle clothes; they weren't as heavy and hot. But they were inappropriate in the wizarding world.

Harry had decided to floo out of Hogwarts and to the burrow. He couldn't aparate out of Hogwarts, so he figured he might as well kill two birds with one stone, he had a few loose ends to tie up with Ron. They weren't expecting him for a few hours, but he doubted they would mind. Knowing Hermione she had the entire house awake at dawn busy making preparations.

Throwing the floo powder into his fireplace he waited until the green flames appeared then stepping inside shouted "The Burrow."

* * *

Harry fell into the fireplace in the Weasley living room, and stood up, brushing off the soot.

He was surprised at how quiet the house was. "Ron! Is anyone here?" He shouted.

A moment later Ron came down the stairs with a smile on his face. He looked tired, but happy.

"Hi there Harry. You're early." He said joyfully.

"Ya, I have somewhere else to go this afternoon so I thought I'd come now… why is it so quite? Where is every body?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Hermione left yesterday."

Harry looked at him bewildered, certainly he didn't mean what he thought he meant?

Ron laughed "No not like that, her and my mum are both gone. Hermione decided that she didn't want us to be together until the wedding day. You know how she is… So she has been staying in a muggle hotel somewhere while they finish all the last minute details..." Ron smiled almost sadly.

"You two haven't spent any time apart sense you've been together have you?" Harry asked, knowing how codependent his best friend was.

Ron shook his head. "One night and I miss her like hell, and I have to wait until tomorrow still… I'm pathetic."

Ron looked up at Harry only to see an expression of agreement. "Oh shut up Harry… come on, I need to give you the ring to hold on to."

* * *

Landing with a thud, Harry opened his eyes. He was staring at the back of a very smelly dumpster.

Standing up, he walked around it, and out onto _Wraysbury Rd. Looking around, he discovered the street very much resembled his old home on Privit Dr._

He walked down the street a little until he came to the one he was looking for, 753. It was a small two story white house with a nicely kept garden and a gate around the front.

Stepping through and up to the door, Harry knocked loudly.

Seconds later he heard steps and the door opened revealing a blonde woman, of about thirty. She wore her hair pulled back tightly, and a blue sweater and jeans. Her eyes were blue and her smile friendly.

"Mr. Potter I presume?" she asked.

"Yes. And you must be Ms. Baker."

The woman nodded, then stepped aside to let him in. "I can't tell you how much we appreciate you coming; my grandmother finally got some sleep when she found out. I hope it wasn't too hard for you to get here from Hogwarts."

"No, it was no trouble at all, I aparated."

She woman smiled sweetly, she was soft spoken and polite.

The house he now stood in also reflected a calm tranquility. It was definitely the home of an older woman, decorated with flowers and pastels. But it was neat and clean, obviously well taken care of.

"Well as strange as it is, my grandmother wishes to simply give you this note." Carla picked up a small blank envelope from a table near the door and handed it to Harry.

"She doesn't want to talk to me anymore?" He questioned.

"We thought for sure that was her intention, but now she doesn't want to see you face to face. I can't be sure, because she's been acting very strangely but I believe she truly does wish to see you… I think however she knows it will be too hard on her... she's very sick."

Harry smiled encouragingly. "Of course, whatever she wants if perfectly fine. Might I ask your grandmothers name?"

"Her name is Katherine, Katherine Baker. However she has asked me to introduce her as Katie O'Reilly… O'Reilly was her maiden name, before she married my grandfather."

This visit was becoming more and more strange by the minute, but he was determined to be cordial and understanding. God knows he understood what it felt like to lose someone you loved.

He had come to speak with an elderly woman who wished him to know her by her maiden name, and instead of actually speaking with him, left him a note. It was unusual to say the least.

"Your grandmother, is she a witch?" He asked, trying his hardest to break the silence.

"Yes, our whole family is magical… however my grandfather chose to move into a muggle community around the time… well, let us say around the time you were born."

She blushed and gave him a weak smile, and suddenly he realized how nervous she was. Sometimes the reality of his fame slipped his mind.

Harry nodded with understanding.

"My grandfather saw a war coming about, and thought it would be safer here."

"Your grandfather was a wise man."

They smiled at each other for a moment, both at a loss for words.

"Well, I don't wish to keep you any longer, I think she wanted you to open that in private…" Carla said gesturing to the note.

"Of course… well it was nice to meet you."

Harry shook her hand, and then pocketed the note next to the letter he had received the night before.

Glancing to the side, he spotted a black and white photograph of a young woman who looked very much like the one standing before him. The photograph was very old and faded, but it didn't hide her same youthful smile and bright eyes.

"Is that your grandmother? Harry asked pointing to the photograph.

"Yes. That was taken on her twenty fifth birthday."

"How old is she now?" he asked.

"She is 95, and up until a few months ago was still as energetic as ever."

Harry looked at her in amazement. He supposed the age wasn't too much of a phenomenon considering she was a witch. But it was still rare for any human being to live so long.

"Well, please send her my regards; tell her I hope she is feeling better soon." His smile this time was warm and apologetic, knowing in the tone of Carla's voice, and the sadness in her eyes that her grandmother would not be getting better.

Finally saying their final goodbyes, Harry aparated to the burrow, and after quickly saying hello to Ron flooed back to Hogwarts, anxious to read the note.

He supposed it was better he not tell Ron about his most recent mystery, he had enough to think about.

Once he had landed in his study fireplace, he brushed off and pulled out the envelope.

Opening the back carefully he pulled out a piece of small paper. And on it in very shaky handwriting were six simple words…

_Don't give up on her Harry._

The paper hit the ground softly no more than a moment later.

* * *

_**Thanks so much for reading… now go and review! GOGOGOGO!**_

**_Sybyll_**_– lol. I knew someone would ask why Ron didn't just summon the ring. And my answer to that is… If he had just summoned it, then they wouldn't of had a fight… and if they didn't have a fight, they would of have no reason to make up, would they? And I guess Harry forgot the spell because he'd only heard it once when Hermione was reading it from the book… it was the other spell he was more concerned with anyway. _

_And finally, I can tell you want details on the students and all that, but unfortunately that's really not a very important aspect of the story. I'm sorry love. What you heard in this chapter is about all we're going to hear… maybe a little more here and there… But don't be dismayed! There are plenty of exciting things on their way!_

**_humor my lips_**_ – That's actually a really great idea, my friend read your review and was like "wow! That a pretty cool concept!" _

_And you know what? You should write it!_

**_lia23_**_ – Thanks! I never thought I would write any kind of mystery, but when this idea came to me, I just had to make myself be good at it, so thanks. And I know! It's a beautiful painting isn't it?_

_**KT** – Yea! It's you! Did you see it! It's you!... Ok, now if you've figured it out, or at least figured something out, please keep it to yourself and don't write it in a review so that when I call you tomorrow (since its too late to ask you too call me now, assuming you actually read this tonight) you can help me and answer my questions. So think super hard ok? And I'll talk to you later. Love ya._


	10. Memories of the Past

_Refer to Chapter 1 for disclaimer_

_Oh WOW! Ok, I'm really excited. So this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I expected, in fact it's long enough to be at least two chapters, but I felt it need to be kept together…. Ok, so enough of that… _

_THIS IS IT! This is the big chapter! Hopefully some of the mystery will finally be revealed. Mind you, I'm not going to hand it to you on a silver platter, but you should be able to figure some things out… just don't go over thinking it, I'm really not that complex. lol. And just a fair warning, if I did my job correctly, you should be very confused at the beginning here, but eventually if not now, very soon, everything will make sense. I cannot promise however that this entire chapter won't completely confuse you, and make you horribly angry at me. Let us hope not._

_OK! Read and enjoy._

* * *

Dieing, she realized, was nothing like she thought it would be. It wasn't like sitting alone waiting for an eventual end. Knowing that its there and being able to see it quickly approaching with every sharp breath.

No, that was the view of death to one who sat on the outskirts fearing death because they still held onto their youthful energy.

But Katie knew, as she lay quietly drifting off to sleep, just as the sun was setting and the light shone a gentle stream through the small window. That the reality was, that once death had you in its tight grasp and was just waiting to pull you under, that there was a gentle peace, a knowledge that this would be just one more adventure, and the knowledge that every adventure has a purpose.

She had lived a good life, and loved well. She had never done anything of too much importance or of too much excitement really. She had seen all she wished to see and no more. She didn't feel as though she was going to miss anything, her purpose here was finally complete… or was it?

Katie rolled over slightly, her muscles aching as she did so, and looked at the wall beside her bed. Against it hung a calendar of grassy fields and rural cottages, which had for as long as she could remember hung there.

Time was something Katie rarely thought about… It didn't matter much to her anymore whether it was June or July, April or May… and the year mattered even less for she had seen too many pass her by. But nevertheless she had always hung a new calendar on the first of ever January without fail. And every month she would robotically flip the page. But almost never did she take note of it.

So why did she now have the sudden urge to examine it so? It was September of 2012. She always liked September, the summer was fading away and the winter was approaching, so it was almost as if spring had appeared if only for a little while between the heat and harsh cold. But other than that, the date meant nothing to her.

Sighing, Katie turned away from the wall, the sky outside almost black, and closed her eyes, letting sleep gently take her away.

* * *

_A young woman of no more than twenty, youthful in spirit and looks laughed as she ran through the grassy field. Her blonde hair, long and almost to her waist blew softly behind her, her smile innocent and carefree._

_She ran as if something were chasing her, not something to be afraid but rather a childhood playmate. _

_It was Katie, many years ago when she was at her prime, her beauty was unmistakable and her worries non existent. It was the time she looked back upon most fondly, when her most joyful memories lived, and her most exciting adventure lie._

_And then suddenly, the dream Katie was having, the one she had enjoyed many times over was suddenly, and without warning ripped out of her mind, like a reader tearing the page out of a book._

_Her mind was dark now; there was nothing, no sound, no movement, nothing at all. It was a strange sensation; nothing like sleep… it was something few could understand, for few had ever felt it._

_True, Katie had experienced such a sensation before; it was not completely foreign to her. But she had been so sure the visions would never return that she had almost convinced herself over the past years that they had never existed, that they were creations of her younger imagination that has blossomed into an extravagant assumption that she could in fact see things that were not meant for her eyes. She had once been sure it was a gift, for there was no other way to explain it. They had happened so frequently as a child and young adult, and she always had purpose in seeing them… and yet when they stopped, for decades on end. She was sure they had never really existed._

_The darkness that lay in front of her was frightening at first, as it had been so many years ago. But slowly she calmed herself, and waited for the vision that was coming to her._

_And suddenly, just as she had accepted its coming, a painting appeared before her. It looked so familiar and yet so foreign. Like a déjà vu. Who she saw next however was a face she had never forgotten. _

_He was a young man, Harry Potter, "the boy who lived" as she remembered from before her days in the wizarding world. Now of course she heard little to nothing of the happenings there. However she had known he'd be great far before even the wisest of wizards. And although she'd never admit to it, in her elderly state, he was half the reason she insisted they leave._

_But the last photo she'd seen of him had been of a very small boy with the scar she remembered so clearly._

_However, this man standing before her was what she truly remembered; he looked exactly as he had so many years ago. He had he same handsome charms and mess of hair, same round glasses that gave him that childish essence._

_And as she watched him, standing almost stone still, all the memories came rushing back so quickly it made her flinch, even as she slept._

_Harry looked at the painting, the painting which Katie now certainly recognized, and with a small smile took a cloth and covered its beautiful surface. And although he said nothing, she heard through his actions, as if someone was whispering in her ear. 'He was going to forget her… and it will be too late'._

And as quickly as it came the vision went, awaking Katie to quick sharp breaths, and a cold sweat.

It was morning now; the sky was bright and blue, no longer dark. Glancing quickly to the calendar September 2012 no longer meant nothing to her as it had the night before.

Gasping she put her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god." Her exclamation was muffled and quiet. Her old and tired face etched in concern and worry.

She remembered now… he had told her… how could she have forgotten?

Still breathing heavy Katie called out to her granddaughter. "Carla."

Moments later the much younger woman, still wearing her night clothes came rushing in, a look of worry etched across her face.

"What is it Grandma, are you alright?" Her concern was now worse upon seeing her grandmother in such a nervous state.

"What has become of Harry Potter?" Katie said bluntly, disregarding how odd the question sounded.

Carla was taken aback. It was certainly not a question she had expected. Her grandmother had never cared about the wizarding world, as far back as she could remember her grandparents had lived in this small muggle town and never discussed anything that happened in her own society. Why in god's name would she care about Harry Potter? As far as she knew, her grandmother didn't even know who Harry Potter was.

"Harry Potter?" She questioned. "What do you mean Grandma?"

"He still lives does he not? What is he doing? Do you know where he is?" Katie asked again almost desperately.

Carla composed herself, having never seen her grandmother so forceful. "Last time I heard he had taken up a position as a professor at Hogwarts."

Katie thought hard, thinking back to those fondly forgotten memories…

"Of course." The exclamation was almost silent as it seeped from her lips, her eyes downcast.

Carla stood silently waiting as her grandmother continued in her train of thought.

"Carla. Will you send him a letter? I need to see him; I need to tell him something."

"Harry Potter?…Why?" Carla was bewildered. What would this old woman, completely removed from the wizarding world need with Harry Potter?

"No. No, I must see him. If you write the letter I know he will come."

Carla stood stone still, her mouth open in shock… Harry Potter, come here and visit her sick grandmother? Certainly not.

"Carla!" Katie snapped, her nerves frayed, and her kind patience taken over by the sudden urgency.

She nodded and turned around to find the stationary in the other room.

Lying back against the head board, her almost white hair messed around her face, Katie took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She only hoped it wasn't too late.

And as she sat there, she couldn't help but feel her energy for life return, if not just awhile. She had been wrong in her assumption that life no longer needed her… no she was still needed, just once more.

* * *

Harry looked down at the letter on the floor in pure bewilderment. It couldn't be possible… how on earth could this woman know anything? And _did_ she in fact know anything? Was he twisting these words to fit into his own strange delusion?

No, it wasn't possible he thought as he bent down and once more read the words, afraid to touch the parchment as if it would burn him. There was nothing it could be referring to. It was true he had given up on her; he had barely given another thought to the painting down the hall. In fact if it wasn't for this letter, he doubted he would have given it more than a passing thought ever again… he had convinced himself that what he had felt before was nothing but a strange obsession… he obsessed over beauty, he always had.

Taking the letter in his hand and looking at it once more, instead of feeling scared he seemed to draw strength from its thin presence. This time he would not give up for he knew, for absolute certain, that he was involved in something greater than himself. He would not rest until he had solved this mystery.

He was no longer afraid of what it was he would find, there was a peace telling him that everything would be alright as long as he refused to give up.

And that was exactly what he planned to do.

* * *

There was only one place to begin… and that is where he had started.

Opening the door marked with the number nine, he stepped in, shivering at the cold chill that swept through the space.

Immediately going over to the painting, he uncovered the surface and was greeted with her soft smile.

"And to think I almost gave up on you." He told her, though she could not hear his quiet loving words.

Taking a moment he simply stared at the paint, absorbing every line and every curve, hoping to find something he had missed. But to no avail, for it was the same as it had been the first time he'd memorized it.

And then an idea hit him, it was true, he had seen the front of this painting, and knew it like his own reflection. But there was one side he had yet to discover. Common sense told him that the back side of a painting meant nothing, but his common sense had failed him before.

Standing up and gently turning it over, he set it back against the wall and crouched down once again to examine the yellowish canvas that was nailed into the frame.

At first glance it appeared to be completely blank, nothing but discolored marks gracing its surface. And then he spotted it, four small numbers in the top right hand corner.

1934

"1934." He said aloud. It must have been the date which it was painted. That however still did not answer any questions; the date meant nothing to him personally. It didn't explain his connection to this painting, this girl.

Setting it back, so that the paint faced forward, Harry recovered the surface.

He had to think of something. There had to be somewhere else to go. He could hear Hermione in the back of his head pushing him in the direction of the library… for that was her answer to everything, but frankly he didn't have enough to work off of. He had no where to start…

And then he heard Ron's boyish voice encouraging him to break the rules, the thing they were most skilled at as students.

"Of course" he exclaimed aloud before rushing to the door, a smile etched across his face.

Why hadn't he thought of it before? It wasn't the perfect solution… he may not find anything. But then again the 'Room of Records' was said to hold record of everything at Hogwarts. It held all the current as well as past students grades… not to mention the book which predicted incoming students long before it was their time to enter the school. Yes, this room held record of just about everything, perhaps even something as unimportant as old antiques.

Surely he would find something there… the problem was… only the headmaster and teachers were permitted entrance… so how was he going to get–

Harry laughed as he continued down the hall. "You _are_ a teacher." He told himself.

Sometimes he slipped into that state of mind which told him he was only a student who had to misbehave to achieve his goals.

Coming to the end of the hall on the second floor where he knew the room resided, he stopped in front of a tall painting of a man sitting at a desk stacked with piles upon piles of papers. He sat, his head down writing furiously with an old black quill.

"Excuse me sir?" Harry asked loudly.

The man looked up at him, squinting through his glasses.

He appeared very wise but very overworked. "Yes?"

"I need to check the records of… "Harry thought for a moment, "A student who has been giving me trouble in a class." He hoped his story was believable.

The man lowered his glasses even more and gazed over their thin rims. "Oh yes, you must be the new defense against the dark arts teacher. You must be Harry Potter."

Harry smiled.

"Do you have the password." His voice was shaky and rough, though kind.

"I haven't been given this one yet. I'm new, and I really don't have time to go to the headmaster and ask for it." He said, praying he could find a way around having to talk to McGonagall.

The man grunted, "I'm afraid I cannot let you through my boy." Then sliding his glasses over his nose he looked down at his work again.

Harry clutched his fist tightly and cursed under his breath.

The man seemed to see his frustration and smirked. "Son, you will learn with time that the professors here do not like complication."

"Might I suggest you try the password which gave you entrance into the room where you had that teachers meeting last week." He continued.

"I believe that opens many of the rooms only professors have entrance to."

And with that, he looked back down at his paper and continued to write.

"Key lime pie?" Harry questioned in amusement. But just as quickly as he spoke the words, the frame opened revealing the round hole behind it.

"Thanks" Harry yelled before scurrying in.

Once inside he marveled at the giant walls holding thick old leather books. Walking around skimming his finger over the many bindings, he began to feel hopeless at ever finding the one he had come in search of.

Harry rolled up his sleeves in defiance and began to read each and every title.

* * *

_An hour or so later_

Harry's muscle's hurt from balancing on the latter that let him reach the many higher shelves.

But to his amazement he had finally found the book he had been searching for. It wasn't as thick as many of the others so was hard to spot. It had been just between a volume entitled, "Record of The Contents of Closet Number 8," and "Record of The Contents of Closet Number 10."

Brushing the dust off the cover he opened to the first page. It held a small description of a painting he hadn't remembered seeing, followed by an explanation for the reasons of its removal.

Flipping to the next page and then the next after it, he began to search for the painting which haunted him, determined to find some answers.

Finally after seeing far more meaningless pages than he would have cared to see he found it.

Jumping a little and smiling, he immediately began reading the page, which was unusually short, compared to the others.

What he discovered as he read however, was far beyond what he anticipated. In fact it was the last thing he expected.

_Description: A woman wearing a blue dress sits with a fan and looks out over a garden, behind her sits a tall vase._

The explanation was short, and vastly under glorified its beauty. But, pushing that aside he continued reading, the next part surely being of more importance to him.

_This painting is a muggle portrait accepted by Hogwarts during the fall of 1934 along with the sum of 6 galleons to be stored in its vaults by a Mr. H. Potter for the unforeseeable future._

* * *

_Phew! Ok, so just a few side notes. I decided to count back seven years from now… which would make it 2012… and the war would have ended in 2005._

_Secondly… I doubt anyone noticed, but what happens here doesn't completely match up with what Carla said in the letter she sent to Harry in the last chapter, so I went back and revised it. It's not really that important, it simply said that Katie had spent days asking for Harry, which I decided wasn't true. That's all._

_And lastly, in the back of mind I thought I recalled mention of a "room of records" or something like that in the books. But I couldn't find anything… so if anyone can answer that mystery that would be great. Otherwise, I'm just cool and made it up. lol._

_Ok, now for my review responses! **AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!** It's such a lovely feeling checking my e-mail and finding those nice little reviews._

**_lia23_**_– Oh the suspense… well we're going to find out more about Katie soon, but until then I think I've provided you with a few more things to ponder… have fun!_

**_dementorchic_**_ – Good! I want you worked up, that makes me happy… and thanks for the compliments! _

_**chocolaterules** – I know, I hate cliff hangers too, but only when their in other people's stories. But when their my cliffhangers I love em. It's a sad truth. I've recently noticed that I leave every chapter at a cliff hanger, sorry about that… however the time will come when cliffhangers aren't really needed, there will come a time when the story will slow down a little. Let us hope._

**_humor my lips_**_ – I did thank my friend… in fact you can thank her your self… she's my best friend Katie a.k.a. "KT" and she's who I'm writing… well… Katie, after… lol… _

_Anywho, I bet you're a better writer than you think you should give it a go, write a one-shot or something! I dunno. OK! So I hope you're not mad at me for giving yet another cliff hanger but I hope you liked the chapter!_

_P.S. I love your screen name… I envy it, its cool._

**_Sybyll_**_ – haha… he does sound like Snape huh… well I am unfortunately one of those weird die hard Snape fans; it's probably rubbing off… _

_But more seriously, I think I write him like that cause I'm trying to portray some kind of forced maturity I dunno? But I love little immature Harry better, and he's coming back soon ;)_

_**KT **– Look how cool I am! I'm writing a review response even though you didn't review. Whatever… I told you you were cool! Aren't you cool! And you'll get even cooler later._

_Ok, love ya! _

"_Somewhere over the rainbow…" Déjà vu? _


	11. Cold Feet

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Oh my goodness gracious! I am so sorry for the long delay; I guess you could say I had a bit of writers block… I originally planned to have the wedding later on in the story, so when I pushed it so far forward I had to rearrange things… so it took me awhile, but now I'm right back on track._

_Also, Harry doesn't have much of a reaction here because I needed to fit so much in, but don't be dismayed there will be lots and lots of explanation in future chapters. Ok? Great._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"Mr. H. Potter?" Harry whispered aloud, rereading the words over and over to himself, frantically trying to make sense of it.

'It can't be me… that's impossible'… not even his parents had been alive in 1934, no; this had to be a strange coincidence… didn't it?

Harry had never known much about his family; in fact he had barely known anything at all about his own parents before he arrived at Hogwarts. So perhaps there was a distant relative by his same initial. An Uncle named Howard or Henry? Or maybe a cousin or grandfather by the same name.

Trying with all his might, Harry tried to cover up the feeling that Mr. H. Potter was in fact the man standing alone in this dusty room, whose heart was beating faster than a drum.

He wanted to cover up this foreboding with sensibility…

"No," he closed the book and stepped away, looking at it from afar, sitting there at the table, laughing at him. His first thought was to run, but that's what he'd done before, and it had only landed him deeper into this haunting mystery.

Picking up the book he flipped back to the page…and staring down at it once more he ripped it clean from the book and held it out in front of him.

Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He had just defaced an incredibly important school document… not that anyone was likely to find out, there wasn't much interest in these closets anyway… but it had been so long since he'd broken even the tiniest rule or done something he obviously wasn't allowed to do. And it felt good. Smiling to himself, he folded the paper and pocketed it before hurrying out of the room of records.

It certainly made no sense, everything he was finding just distilling more and more fear into him… and this last discovery was definitely not helping.

* * *

That night Harry went to bed, determined to push these thoughts from his head if even for one night in order to clear the jumble of confusion from his mind… but he slept even worse than he had the night of the dream… tossing and turning with the muddled thoughts and dreams flashing back and forth, keeping him from his much deserved sleep.

There was something however, that through the hectic evening and dream filled night had simply slipped Harry's mind…

Rosie however, being the smart elf she was, would have never forgotten Harry Potter's important occasion that day, and that's why when Harry had less than an hour to get ready, Rosie had already pressed his tuxedo and polished his shoes. His breakfast was on the table to be eaten quickly, and the precious wedding ring was taken out of the desk drawer and set next to the plate of bacon and toast.

Rosie, rolling her eyes at her young master's silly ability to forget the most important of matters, walked through his bedroom door and standing on the tips of her toes stretched to see him from over the wad of blankets.

"Harry Potter sir!" Rosie whispered… but Harry simply groaned and flopped over on to his other side.

"Harry Potter sir!" Rosie said a little louder, but to no avail for Harry didn't even flinch.

Rosie didn't think that her master had drank any of that disgusting liquid that always caused the humans to sleep so soundly and made them hate the sun and the smallest sound… but… maybe he had. And if so, it would take a much louder noise to wake him up she reasoned.

"HARRY POTTER SIR," she shouted this time as loud as she could, making her long ears flap wildly.

Harry jumped up, and immediately reached for his wand, pointing it straight towards the innocent face of a very amused house elf.

Through blurry vision he saw Rosie giggle a little and push the end of his wand away from her nose…"Sir might want to get ready to leave now. Sir's friends' wedding is today." And with that she smiled and popped back to the kitchens where she would surely tell the hilarious tale of the famous Harry Potter and how silly he was this morning… the Hogwarts elfs were always anxious for any story of Rosie's master.

Harry rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses, how could he have forgotten? The wedding was today. He had been so caught up in his new findings the night before he had completely forgotten.

Jumping out of bed he looked at the clock hanging against the wall across from his four poster bed. It was quarter to eight and he had to be at Ron's by eight thirty so they could all aparate to the garden Hermione had chosen for the wedding.

Running into the bathroom Harry quickly showered and threw on some old jeans and a brown sweater.

Eating quickly and grabbing the ring and his tux he was right on time when he finally tossed the floo powder into the fireplace.

* * *

Unlike the previous visit to the burrow the day before, it was certainly not eerily quiet … in fact he wasn't sure he had ever heard so much commotion.

"Hermione probably _would_ know where he went, but do you really think it's wise to hunt her down and ask her such a question a few hours before her wedding Fred?" Percy was shouting from the other room.

Dusting off, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to walk through the kitchen doors and find out what all those voices were arguing over… but, he had a feeling.

On the other side of the door Mr. Weasley sat with his head on the table his nerves shattered… what made him think Ron wouldn't do something as stupid as this. Someone should have kept an eye on him.

Fred and Percy stood near the stove arguing as George, Charlie and Bill were talking over each other, as they too tried to think of something. All of them claiming they knew where to look first, but knowing that none really had any clue.

Neville Seamus and Dean, Ron's three other groomsmen sat across from Mr. Weasley with even less idea of what to do.

"Does this mean there isn't going to be a wedding?" Neville asked looking over at his two long time friends.

They both shrugged and looked behind them at the mess of red headed frenzy.

Harry walked meekly through the thin old wooden door. As soon as Charlie saw Harry enter he broke away from his current argument and walked over to the very bewildered man. "Thank God Harry!" he exclaimed and suddenly nine eyes focused directly on him.

"Ron ran, and we have no idea where he went." Charlie said from across the room. "We woke up and he was just gone" Fred finished.

That was strange Harry thought, Ron seemed so excited to get to see Hermione last time he saw him. "He seemed fine yesterday," he questioned.

"Yes we know, that's why no one was worried enough to bother keeping an eye on him in case he did this," Percy explained. "No one knows where he could possibly be. We were hoping you might know, because if we cant find him and bring him back in the next…" Percy looked down at his watch. "Forty five minutes, were going to have to track down the girls, and I sure don't want to be the one to explain why we don't have the groom to a dozen women."

Mr. Weasley just dropped his head against the table once again, this was the third son he watched get married, Bill and Percy's weddings having been a thousand times less stressful… and it wasn't so much that he feared for Ron's whereabouts, no… he now feared for the day that Fred and George's got married, for if Ron was proving to be this difficult, surely his twin sons would be hell on earth.

"I don't have a clue where he would go," Harry said dumbfounded and obviously annoyed that everyone would put the pressure on him to save the day once again.

"Then that's it then, what else can we do, unless he shows up we're just going to have to tell the girls and pray Hermione knows where he went without flipping out." George said shrugging.

"Which isn't going to happen," Fred muffled under his breath.

Everyone mumbled a few final comments and moved off in their separate ways around the house… "So I guess we just wait then?" Neville asked. No one answered, but he took that as an answer and pulled the daily prophet from under Mr. Weasley arm to read, seeing that he older man was clearly no longer interested.

Where would Ron go? Harry thought to himself. It wasn't like Ron to just disappear or hide… but… if he _was_ to hide somewhere where would it be?

Harry had an idea… it was unlikely he'd find him, but knowing his best friend, it was certainly worth a try.

"I have an idea" Harry told the few men left in the kitchen… "I'll come back within the half hour if I don't find him."

And with that he ran back through the kitchen door, Dean, Seamus and Neville watching him go in bewilderment… and then as quickly as he went he came back again… "I'm going to need a broom."

* * *

Harry flew over the Weasley's house a few times scanning the horizon hoping to see something, anything.

Knowing Ron he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of running very far. Ron would never intentionally lose Hermione, he loved her too much… and he was smart enough to know that ditching his own wedding was a sure fire way of losing her forever… didn't he?

Well, chances were when he had finally wrapped his head around the commitment he was making that day, he had simply ran off to clear his mind, and if Harry could only find him, then he was sure all Ron would need was a little common sense pounded into his scull and he would be fine.

Flying back and forth Harry scanned the ground for any signs of his red headed friend… surely he wouldn't be too hard to spot.

But as far as he could tell Ron was no where to be found within a five mile radius.

Harry was just about to give up, when he spotted something no more than a mile or two from the house sitting alone with a few old trees surrounding it.

It was a small shed that had probably once held tools for whoever had tended the small field across from it. The wood was old and cracked, the roof falling in the middle. Flying down, Harry un-mounted and rushed to the door, he could bet just about anything that what he was looking for sat just beyond that door… and of course the mess of red hair he spotted through the window _did_ help just a bit.

* * *

"Ron?" Harry said upon spotting his best friend, his back against the wall below the window, his head tilted back and his eyes closed, an old broom perched next to him.

"Ron what the hell are you doing." Harry exclaimed.

"Go away."

"No." Harry said roughly. "Do you have any idea how scared everyone is? What were you thinking, I never thought you'd sink so low as to run on the day of your own wedding." He spat.

Ron opened his eyes and glared, "You have no idea what you're talking about… Do you have any idea what it feels like to wake up one morning with the realization that you will never again be a free man? Never! There will always be a wife, and then children and then grandchildren tying you down." Ron spat back furiously.

Harry sighed and moved over to sit in front of Ron, who instantly gave him a look of pure venom and tried to stand up and move away from what he knew was going to be a very unwanted shot of common sense... but Harry reached out and took Ron's shoulders, pressing him back to the ground.

"Ron, I know you don't want to hear me talk at you, so I'm just going to say one thing then leave you alone and hope you come home…"

Ron looked at him, surprised that he wouldn't force him back to the burrow and then onto the alter to say his "I do's" as he assumed whoever found him first would surely do.

"You're right Ron, I have no idea what it's like to feel that loss of freedom… but. What I do know, is what it feels like to lose someone you love. And if you don't show up at that wedding, then you are going to lose Hermione." He said slowly and firmly.

Harry looked straight into Ron's eyes for a moment, now filled with fear, and finally releasing his shoulders stood up and picked up his broom.

"Think about that Ron." He said as he stood at the moldy old door. "But if you're not back in the next twenty minutes we're leaving, and we're going to tell the girls." Harry gave his friend one last stern look then shut the door.

Mounting his broom, he flew back to the burrow alone.

* * *

Harry stepped back into the kitchen to find nine very quiet and nervous looking men. A great difference from the last scene he had encountered upon walking into this kitchen.

"Did you find him?" Bill asked.

Harry nodded and sat down at the table across from Sean. Everyone looked at him wide eyed awaiting further explanation. But instead Harry just grabbed the tea pot in the center of the table and poured a cup of tea.

Then just as Percy was about to open his mouth and question him, the kitchen doors opened once again.

"Is my tux pressed because we're really late?" Ron exclaimed looking across at the room full of shocked men.

"Come on lets go we're going to be late for God's sake," he shouted into the silence, "What are you all doing just standing around."

Harry smirked and looked over at Ron who held the same smile of amusement… and after another moment of bewildered silence, they both burst into laughter.

The party of men arrived right on time and without any hint that something had gone amuck that morning. People were running every which way between witches conjuring up flowers and girls zooming back and forth between changing rooms, giggling as they frantically slipped their shoes on.

By the time everything was in order, the guests had arrived, and the ceremony was all ready to start, everything looked beautiful… the sun was shinning perfectly on the gorgeous secluded Scottish garden. Everyone was dressed impeccably and not one thing had gone wrong since they had arrived. The photographer was busy setting up his camera and the people were talking quietly amongst themselves.

When Ron, Harry, Neville, Seamus and Dean finally lined up in front of the alter, there was a slow hush.

Ron still hadn't seen Hermione since she'd left three days earlier, and as he stood there waiting to see her walk out of the white tent across from him, he couldn't believe he had ever doubted wanting to get married today.

The music started and one by one each bride's maid walked slowly up the aisle, each dressed in beautiful light coffee colored dresses. They were sleeveless and came to the knee, in a soft flow with a silk bow that tied around their front. Simple but sweet just as Hermione would want her wedding.

Nothing was bright, or displayed overly girlish colors, everything white and cream with a little green here and there.

When Hermione walked out, the awe felt by each person was greater than even at the Yule ball during fourth year. No one, not even Ron had predicted the beauty she possessed in that moment.

Her dress was also sleeveless revealing the delicate shoulders that few ever had the pleasure of seeing. The top of the dress was a beautiful laced fabric of small flowers and leaves wrapping around her small waist that was gently tied with a satin sash that flowed down the back of her dress. The sash perfectly matched the dresses of the four bride's maids and Harry now realized the gorgeous color of her light brown hair.

He had never realized how beautiful her hair was before now, as it was tamed to soft curls that flowed simply down her back and shoulders.

The skirt of her dress was full and soft as it lay gently to ground, the bottom most layer a gentle silk and above it thin, almost translucent layers of tulle that tapered to the ground from under the sash.

Hermione was never one to wear make-up, but today her face was perfect. Not a single blemish, so perfect that Harry would have been surprised if she hadn't used magic. Her lips were a soft peach and her eye lids sparkled the lightest coffee brown behind long black lashes.

There was no way in this moment that anyone, even the hated Draco Malfoy would compare this woman to the buck toothed plain girl they had known at school… no, she was radiant.

Ron watched her walk towards him, a huge smile plastered across his face; he never dreamed that he would ever be lucky enough to marry someone so beautiful. Someone he loved so much that it hurt, and who loved him enough to want to spend the rest of her life with him.

* * *

The reception was going well; everyone was laughing and talking under the huge white tent. Hermione and Ron had run off somewhere, claiming they needed to take pictures. But Harry found it odd that the photographer wasn't needed for these pictures as he had been grazing the buffet ever sense they left nearly an hour ago.

Harry giggled under his breath as he moved through the crowd. His feet hurt from dancing, and his throat was sore from talking to dozens and dozens of people, most of which he'd never met before, but obviously knew him…However despite this, he had luckily run into a few old friends.

Harry had been stopped by Remus earlier in the evening. The two hadn't spoken much at all since the final battle, and Harry was glad to regain the friendship. Remus had, as everyone had expected married Tonks and settled down.

Tonks still works as an Auror and Remus had recently taken up position at the ministry of magic with the Werewolf Support Services… after their long conversation, Harry began to feel the loss of those seven years of solitude he spent removed from those he loved so much. He felt almost guilty when he thought of all the things people like Remus and Tonks had done for him during the war, only to then cast them off for almost a decade…

The evening had gone on like this for hours, some conversations more pleasant than others, but now, all he wanted was to sit and relax.

Harry spotted Lavender, one of Hermione's bridesmaids sitting alone at a table across the room. Making his way over, he plopped down next to her.

"Amazing evening isn't it?"

Lavender smiled and nodded in agreement. She had changed a lot since her school days; she was still as sweet as ever, but no longer a giggly follower. She had grown up and was now engaged to a Hufflepuff whom Harry remembered from school.

She took a deep breath and looked at Harry in amusement… "Kind of glad it's over to be honest, we had a bit of a scare this morning." She said quietly.

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Well, if you promise not to tell… Hermione would kill me."

Harry nodded.

"Well she sort of disappeared this morning to put it lightly… No one could find her for almost two hours… We searched the hotel exhaustively. Mrs. Weasley finally found her hiding in a maid's closet in her pajamas and talked some sense into her… but everyone was so sure we were going to have to cancel." She said quietly, giving him a look of concerned amusement.

Harry smiled a little, trying to hold back his laughter… but when Lavender looked at him, stumped as to why he wouldn't be surprised at this news, he burst out into breathless and hysterical laughs, leaving a very confused witch sitting beside him.

* * *

_Ok, so I'd like to comment that I did mention Remus and Tonks for a reason, but I didn't talk too much about them because we'll have plenty of time for that later, and besides this chapter was already a little too long. _

_Oh yes, rumor has it we're not aloud to reply to our reviews anymore, but I don't care I'm doing it anyway…_

_I've also noticed that I have a lot of readers who have me on their favorite's lists or story alerts who never ever review!_

_If you are one of those people, shame on you, you should review! GO DO IT NOW! EVERYONE!_

**_trishna87_**_ – Yea! Well I'm glad you've caught up with the chapters, that makes me superbly happy! And thanks for the compliments, I adore Ron and Hermione too, their great. Sorry again about the delay :(_

**_Sybyll_**_– hehe, well you'll have to wait and find out the answers to all those secrets a little later, but I can promise their coming within the next two to three chapters… then things will start falling into place._

**_lia23_**_ – Ok, so sorry I didn't write too much about Harry's reaction, but like I said I need to get the wedding into this chapter… but don't be dismayed more is coming soon… and much quicker too!_

**_humor my lips_**_ – Math geeks are cool… and I absolutely suck at math, perhaps you could teach me a thing or two…_

_And what do you mean there isn't going to be any real romance? I did put romance down as a genre didn't I?_

_**KT** – secretly psychic… hehe that is fun to say…_


	12. Not The First One

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_Hi everyone, I know you must have thought I'd given up on you! But alas I have not, nor will I ever. I can't even express how sorry I am about the ridiculously long wait, but a million things came up that took all my time and energy. But now I'm back on track, and writing like crazy._

_Well, I hope you like this chapter… have fun!_

* * *

Harry spun around the corner into the kitchen of the Burrow where Mr. Weasley sat once again drinking his tea, though perhaps at a little bit more ease than the morning before.

"Good morning Mr. Weasley," Harry said a bit out of breath.

Arthur turned around and smiled warmly. "Harry my boy! I didn't expect you this morning…shouldn't you be teaching?"

"My class doesn't start for another hour, but I was wondering if you saw the pair of jeans I left here yesterday?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head, "I don't think so, but of course I can never keep track of anything in this house."

Just then Molly scurried in from the adjacent room levitating a basket of clothes.

"Hello dear," she said, kissing her husband on the cheek. "And hello there Harry," she added, "yes, I found them last night and washed them for you." She reached into the basket and pulled out a neatly folded pair of dark blue jeans.

Harry went white. "You… you washed them?" he asked.

Molly gave him a questioning look, "Yes of course… is everything all right?"

Harry smiled nervously, "Oh no, nothing at all thanks." He grabbed the jeans and quickly reached into the pockets. When his fingers skimmed over a slightly damp and crumpled piece of parchment in the back pocket, he sighed in relief.

"Harry are you sure your ok, you look ill." She asked again, having now set the basket down to fold the clothes and stack them in another old wicker basket beside her.

"No I'm just a little tired from all the commotion," he lied.

The truth was, however, that his search for the precious piece of parchment he had stolen from the room of records had not been the only reason Harry had ventured to the Burrow that morning. No, he also had a rather important question to ask the Weasleys, and he prayed that they would not suspect him of anything strange, that was the last thing he needed today.

"Oh yes, the wedding was lovely wasn't it?" Molly exclaimed merrily. "Everything came together so nicely, I was worried that the food wasn't going to arrive, and that the spells we set on the flowers would wear off before the end of the evening. And of course we barely had Hermione ready before – "

"Molly, I think Harry needs to get back to Hogwarts love." Arthur interrupted, smiling at his wife. No doubt he had heard all about the intimate details ever since he had arrived home the night before.

"Well actually," Harry said, trying to sound only slightly interested. "I had a question for you two… I remember you telling me once about a Professor who died when you were a student and I – "

Arthur beamed, "Of course, Professor Gallimore." He exclaimed.

"Oh yes, I remember him," Molly added looking up from her work, "he died during our fourth year and became a ghost… Dumbledore offered to let him continue teaching Charms, but he wouldn't do it. He was just too down on himself… you know, having just died and what not."

"That's when Dumbledore hired Flitwick." Mr. Weasley said over his tea cup.

Harry smiled as he watched his best friend's parents reminiscing. It was times like this when he wished he knew his parents. He longed to hear all the wonderful stories they could tell about their lives at Hogwarts.

"What was it you wanted to know dear?" Molly asked.

"Well, how long do you suppose he was a teacher, you know, before he died?"

"Oh a very long time I'd guess," Mr. Weasley said as he placed his cup of coffee down on a chipped saucer. "He was one of the oldest teachers we had, a very wise man in deed, and so kind… but I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been their since the twenties, maybe even earlier."

Harry tired to hold back a smile, "So is he still at Hogwarts then?"

"Well I don't think he would have gone anywhere dear, but I could be wrong." Molly explained as she folded one of George's monogram sweaters.

"If I remember correctly, Dumbledore shut down the old classroom… It would have been just cruel to let another teacher move in, Professor Gallimore had been there so long you see." She yawned and picked up a ripped apron,

"He lived inside one of the drawers of his desk I believe, the one he kept his quills in, odd man, and always very very secluded. I only saw him once or twice after he died, wandering around outside his classroom…" Molly smiled at Harry as if this were a perfectly normal question, and then went back to her folding.

'This is perfect,' Harry thought to himself. "Well, thanks again, sorry to come by without notice, but – "

"It's no problem dear," Molly said sweetly, "you're welcome any time."

And with one more nod, he shuffled through the small door and back towards the fireplace.

* * *

As Harry sped down the corridor at full speed towards the old charms room he and Ron had found when they had gotten lost one morning second year, it occurred to him that he still had a class to attend to.

Cursing under his breath, he spun around and headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Once inside he found his class of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth years all ready seated. And once they saw him enter they quickly quieted down and reached to take out their books.

"Today, I uhm… I thought I'd have you start an essay." He exclaimed quickly, enticing a few groans from the students.

"I want 3 feet on any curse of your choice… it will be due on my desk next week… and today you are to go straight to the library and begin studying."

Smiling at his quick thinking Harry nodded once then turned and left, leaving a very confused class behind him, this certainly was not like their DADA Professor.

* * *

The old Charms classroom was even dustier than he remembered; the windows were slightly covered by dark old drapery, but still allowed just enough light to keep the room from looking too gloomy.

He took a few steps towards the old mahogany desk that sat at the front of the room. "Professor Gallimore?" Harry called quietly… he waited a moment or two for something to happen. But the room remained just as still and quiet as before.

"Professor Gallimore?" He called again just a little louder.

From the top of the desk a transparent white head popped up, questionably looking about the room. When it spotted Harry it jumped a little. "Why, I thought I heard my name, but I was not sure, it has been so long since I have been referred to as professor." The ghost rose up out of the desk and glided forward.

He had a kind wrinkled face, and a short beard. His robes were simple and clean cut. On top of his head was a short pointed hat that drooped a bit to the left and underneath was a mess of loose curly hair. He wasn't short but he seemed to slump a bit.

"It's nice to meet you sir, I'm Harry Potter."

The ghost smiled warmly, "You look like a teacher yourself son." He said looking Harry over.

"Yes, I teach Defense against the Dark Arts."

Gallimore looked taken back, "You seem awful young for such a position."

Harry smirked; it was nice to meet someone who didn't know who he was. It was rare to meet anyone in the magical community who didn't already know him, even ghosts. "I guess you could say I had a lot of experience from a very young age."

"I'm sorry my boy, that is something I would not wish upon anyone, but nevertheless, I assume you have a reason for this visit."

"Yes, I have a bit of an odd request for you –"

Harry prayed that this idea would not go to waste. "There is a painting I have some questions about, one that was put in Hogwarts vaults during the thirties. I don't expect you will know anything, but I thought it would be worth a try… you did teach in the thirties, right?" Harry asked.

"Yes indeed… and a painting you say, it is a strange request, but perhaps I can be of some help."

"Excellent."

* * *

A cloud of dust drifted into the air as Harry hastily tore the heavy fabric off the frame.

He coughed a little, then after gazing affectionately at the image that had caused him chaos since he had arrived back at Hogwarts; he turned back to the ghost who floated behind him.

The face that had once held a kind indifference was now set in a curious shock. Gallimore's eyes were glued to the painting as if a memory long forgotten had suddenly resurfaced.

"It is very curious that you should wonder about this painting son." He said quietly, "I had forgotten about this time in my life almost completely…"

He floated forward a little to get a better look, "Yes, she was very beautiful was she not?"

Harry's breathing hitched, "So she was real, the girl, she isn't just a paining?" he asked.

"Oh of course she was real, she was the greatest beauty of her time, every young man was in love with her… even me," he looked at Harry with a grin. "Yes yes, she was very beautiful."

Gallimore looked at Harry then with concern, studying his face and his eyes.

"I worry about you my boy-"he said quietly, "I worry about why you seek this girl… I knew my fair share of smitten youngsters in my day…" he turned and looked back at the painting, "she was something of a Helen, and I worry about this fascination, I can see it in your eyes."

Harry's insides were twisting and pulling, he certainly hadn't expected this. What did he mean, why should he worry? What was there to be concerned about?

"Please sir," Harry pleaded, "Please tell me anything you know about her.

Gallimore sighed and shook his head, "It is no use seeking something you cannot have son. She had a tragic history, disappeared before she was even 20, they say she killed herself. And I cannot say I disagree with them. She had every reason too."

She killed herself? Disappeared? It was terrible, how could someone so young and beautiful want to take their life? But still, he had become so intrigued that he would do anything to keep the man talking.

Turning around Gallimore looked deep into Harry's eyes again, "I think I have said enough Harry, I suggest you lock these doors and set your mind to teaching. Just set your mind on something solid, that's what I did."

Harry couldn't help but feel warmed by the ghost's grandfatherly air. It was something he dearly missed since Dumbledore had died. And yet… he was furious that he wasn't going to get anymore information.

"Well, I think I should be going then." And with a nod he began floating towards the closed door. But when he was a few mere inches from the wall he turned around and looked once more at Harry, who was staring sharply at the figure that held all the answers to his questions, and yet refused to reveal them.

"You're not the first one you know," he whispered with a sad smile, then turned and floated away once again.

'Not the first one?' Harry thought. 'Not the first one to do what?'

"Wait," Harry shouted jumping forward, catching the ghost by surprise just as he was about to drift through the wall. "Please tell me her name."

The quiet old man nodded with the same sad grin.

"Marianne Norrington."

And with that he disappeared silently through the cold stone wall.

* * *

_Hooray! And now is the time for reviewing!_

_AndI say once again, I'm really very sorry about the wait, hopefully that won't happen again. So please don't kill me as I sleep. _

_FYI… I meant to do this much earlier, but I kept forgetting… _

_I wanted to let you know that anyone is welcome to e-mail me at or AIM me at **littlelotte07**… I'd love to hear from ya!_

_Well, that's all folks. _

**_blondishbrownish_**_ – My Love! I'm sooo excited that you're reading, you make my life happy! Just keep up the reviews, they will always make me smile every time I post! which will be more often I promise_

**_Sybyll_**_ – Yes, I loved the wedding too, but then again, I just love weddings. _

_And in response to your other comment… well… you'll just have to wait to find out won't you? You are however quite observant, keep it up; it's definitely getting you somewhere._

**_humor my lips_**_ – Have faith my friend, do you think I would have placed this story in the romance category if I didn't intend to have romance? Certainly not! _

_**KT** – Remus is cool… and doesn't look like a scary Indian chief… nor does Tonks look like a boy with a bad hair cut…this makes me mad!_

"_Weasley Weasley" hehehe_

**_lia23_**_ – I am glad it made you think, and hopefully this chapter has handed you even more to think about._


	13. Disorientation

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_So here is the next chapter, I intended to update last night but I got terrible writer's block half way through and had to stop and wait until I could get my thoughts together. Not that you really needed to know that…_

_Now enjoy._

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"Isn't alcohol wonderful?" Harry exclaimed loudly as he slammed his fourth glass of firewisky on the old wooden bar.

Remus looked over his shoulder at the younger man. Harry had owled him earlier that day saying he needed a favor and to meet him at the leaky cauldron. But when he had arrived only a few minutes late, he had found Harry completely smashed.

"Harry I think it's about time we get you back to Hogwarts, I'm sure we can find another time to catch up." he proposed trying to pry his half empty glass away.

"You know Remus… you are a great guy you know that?" Harry slurred out through half closed eyes as he attempted to dodge Remus' hand.

"Well thank you Harry, but that is beside the point."

"No no I mean it; you're always doing that thing…" he scrunched up his eyes tightly in concentration. "You know with the moon… and the…" Dropping the glass, Harry began making claws with his hands in a rather pathetic attempt at a wolf.

The older wizard smirked, "you mean that nasty werewolf business?" he asked.

"That's it!" Harry exclaimed loudly, "You know your really smart, you should be teaching not me, I'm terrible at teaching, you know that Revus."

"Remus," he corrected, "and I did have your job Harry."

"Oh ya that's right huh? I remember, I learned so mush from you Revus… like with the bright light," Harry's eyes grew wide and he gestured wildly towards the empty wall in front of him. "And that shiny antelope."

Remus tried to hold back his laughter, "Yes yes Harry, I certainly remember it too. The sober like to call that bright light the Patronus Charm, but you're close enough." Standing up he moved Harry from off the high bench and onto the floor.

"No no no no, no! Bright bright light." Harry argued loudly.

"Yes whatever you say… Now Harry, I'd love to sit here and discuss the obvious with you, but I think it might be a good idea if we pay your bill…" he placed a few gold galleons on the counter, "and then I'll help you get home, alright?"

Harry shook his head, "What, you think I can't bloody apparate by myself? I've done it loads of times you know… watch."

Lupin grabbed his elbow roughly as Harry began sliding out of his grip, "I'm sure you have, but I'd really love to see you get back in one piece, so I think we should floo back together alright?"

Harry nodded, slightly distracted by the methodical movement of the scrub brush cleaning the bar table with tiny circular movements.

With much stumbling Remus began to lead a much disoriented wizard to the large fireplace at the other end of the long room.

With a bang Harry ran straight into an overturned chair and landed face first on the cold brick floor. Flipping himself over Harry looked up at the man starring down at him, "Revus you're so tall!" he exclaimed as he held a hand to block the light above him.

"Indeed yes, I get that all the time, especially from drunken men on the floor, now please stand up Harry we need to get you home."

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The two men appeared in Harry's living room minutes later covered in a thin coat of black soot.

"I'm gonna be sick." Harry exclaimed before quickly wiggling free from Remus' grasp and stumbling towards his bathroom.

The older man picked himself up, and dusted the soot from his robes. Stepping around the room he couldn't help but notice the pile of dirty dishes on the table and strange disarray of books strewn around the floor.

Picking up a rather thick old book, Remus flipped to the cover and read the title, "Hogwarts a History?"

'That's funny," he thought 'Harry's never cared about the history of Hogwarts before now… well perhaps McGonagall wants him to read up a little," though he couldn't imagine why.

"Are you alright in there?" Remus called loudly.

Stepping over a pile of books he walked through Harry's bedroom door. "Harry you need to get into bed."

Noticing the bed was unmade he picked up a pillow off the floor he set it neatly at the head of the bed then pulled the thick comforter off the floor and tossed it over the matress.

"Harry can I come in?" he asked looking through the crack in the bathroom door at the young man lying across the floor.

Pushing the door open he shook Harry' shoulder, only to receive a small groan.

Remus lifted the young man and carried him into the adjacent room, dropping him on the bed with a clunk.

He never thought he'd see the day that Harry would get so dead drunk. Then again he had barely seen Harry more than once or twice in passing since the war, and everyone had told him that Harry had crashed lower than they had expected.

However at the wedding he had seemed happy and recovered, and had said he couldn't wait to catch up with all his friends. Hermione and Ron had told him Harry was doing better. So why were his rooms in complete disarray? And why was he getting himself uncontrollably drunk.

Remus sighed as he headed out of Harry's rooms, turning the lights so that only the soft glow from the other room light the large bedroom.

His life with Tonks was more than he could have dreamed of; he was finally happy and wished his best friend's son could have the same. Harry deserved it after all he'd been through.

"Remus?" Harry called from behind him.

"Yea?"

"Guess what?"

Remus smiled as Harry swung his arm into the air. "What's that Harry?"

"I… am going… to meet someone."

"Is that so?" Remus replied, humoring the very drunk and drowsy man, "Harry you can tell me all about it another time, but now you need to –"

"Yep, in 1934!" he exclaimed. "She… she likes blue." He said quietly. "I think."

Remus laughed. That was strange, then again he had definitely heard stranger from drunken friends, especially James come to think of it.

"Well that's wonderful Harry; I hope you have a great time." But he had already fallen fast asleep.

He grunted in amusment before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

Remus walked over the mess and back to the fireplace.

Looking up at the wall before him, Remus was quickly taken aback by the very out of place but exquisite painting that hung there. "Wow," he exclaimed quietly.

Looking down at the small ledge below the wall Remus spotted a small folded piece of paper and old book sitting alone in the center of the ledge.

Picking up the paper he unfolded it and began to read the thin black text.

'_This painting is a muggle portrait accepted by Hogwarts during the fall of 1934 along with the sum of 6 galleons to be stored in its vaults by a Mr. H. Potter for the unforeseeable future.'_

'Mr. H. Potter?' Remus thought, 'that's strange.'

He read the paper again trying to make sense of it. 'Harry had just said something about 1934. But this paper made absolutely no sense, and what could it possibly mean to Harry.

Glancing up at the painting above him he noted the girls blue dress and soft smile. 'This is a muggle painting,' he observed. 'Harry had said he was meeting a girl who liked blue.'

Remus laughed at his stupid assumptions; it probably had nothing to do with anything.

Setting the paper back down, he lifted the book off the ledge to read the opened page from "_The History of the Ministry of Magic."_

…_During this period of unease and worries of impending war the Ministry of Magic entered into a period of inaction, for which they would later be criticized, led by Charles Norrington, the Minister of Magic._

_Norrington was from a wealthy family and had a kind easygoing nature, though recent historians suggest he became Minister because of his popularity rather than any political talent. However, along with his apparent disdain for government affairs, Norrington brought the daily workings of the Ministry to the public. Up to this point the Ministry had been quite secretive about all but it's most prominent gestures. Norrington however kept the wizarding community in touch with all ministry actions. _

_This being said, as Germany prepared to plunge the continent into war, Norrington was forced to resign due to his wishy-washy views on the impending war being ill received as well as a personal tragedy, his daughter Marianne, a beautiful young witch disappeared on the eve of her wedding to Norrington's Head of Foreign Affairs, Richard Evans._

_So the English magical community found itself completely unprepared as it was thrown into the Second World War…_

"Apparently Harry has a sudden fascination with Ministry History," Remus said with a laugh.

Setting the heavy volume back on the ledge, Remus prepared to floo home when he suddenly heard a loud knock at the front door.

"Harry… Harry Potter if you're in there which I know you are, you better open this door this instant or I will do everything in my power to knock it down… I believe five day of polite understanding are all I have to offer."

He recognized the voice right away as McGonagall's. Walking as quickly as he could he unlocked the door it and swung it open, revealing a very angry witch on the other side.

"Remus?" she asked looking him over. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought Harry home," he replied, "Is there something going on?"

"I should say so. Mr. Potter here has locked himself into his rooms and closed off both of his fireplaces for the past five days. I have had teach Defense against the Dark Arts all week, I should certainly say there is something the matter…" taking a deep breath she looked up at the man once again, "where did you bring him home from?"

"I found him drunk at the leaky cauldron," Remus replied, "I was perfectly able to floo us both back, but I must say his rooms are a complete disaster." Swinging the door a little wider, he revealed the chaos behind him.

"Oh my god, that's what, happened to all those books," she gasped scanning the dozens of volumes strewn across the floor. "Those wouldn't happen to be history books would they?"

"Yes I believe they are."

"It appears that Harry has been using your dear friend's clever cloak to sneak into the library at night and steal next to all of Hogwarts History books. God only knows why, he went from carefree to mental over night, stealing history books and locking everyone out… I figured he just needed a little time to himself; he's been through so much. But a week is just too much without any explanation."

"How did you know he was alright?" Remus asked.

"Well I should think he was fine, every time I came to inquire after him I got a quite violent "Sod off," in reply."

"Oh dear… well I couldn't tell you what's been bothering him Minerva, he was incoherently drunk when I found him."

The older witch sighed, "Well I can't blame him of all people for having a few mood swings, but I'd rather be assured he's alright, and that I'll be able to speak with him in the morning." Moving past the man she headed towards the bedroom, stepping carefully over the dirty plates. "Will you be a dear and help me move him to the hospital wing, hopefully with a hangover he'll be in too much pain to attempt escape."

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"You're going to get me into trouble again."

The brunette laughed softly. "No I wont, I'll just tell Father I took you with me into Hogsmeade."

"We didn't go to Hogsmeade."

"They don't need to know that." She answered. A long moment of silence past between the girls as they stared up at the sky. "Look at that one Katie, it looks like a quill." She exclaimed pointing at a cloud.

The day was more beautiful than most could remember with a picturesque scatter of white clouds and a cool breeze.

In the distance a large house sat at the bottom of the hill, the sunlight bouncing off its perfectly spaced windows.

"We should go for a walk, come with me." The Brunette said standing up and brushing off her dress, straitened the fine fabrics and adjusted her hair.

"What happens if it gets dark?"

"Than we shall run home," and with that she set off down the slope. A little known garden resided at the bottom of that hill, just near the outskirts of a deep forest that surrounded the area. The girls loved to escape there whenever they could, and find solace in the fragrant flowers and shade of the grandest trees.

"Marianne wait for me," the small blonde called loudly, before lifting the hem of her crisp black skirt and running after her friend, laughing all the way.

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_Tada! Another Chapter and I hope you liked it._

_And although I really shouldn't have to remind you, as I think I've done that enough, I'm going to anyway. PLEASE REVIEW!_

_Now more importantly, I must give credit to my dear friend "KT" for easing the stress of my writers block and supplying the entry from "The History of the Ministry of Magic." As well as throwing some very useful ideas for this chapter my way, which helped immensely. Thank you my love!_

_So that's all folks, I'll try and get chapter 14 up as soon as possible. All my love…_

_-Antiquesong_

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**_blondishbrownish_**_ – Well I hope this chapter gave out at least a few of those desired answers. Thanks again for reading… see ya at school! _

**_humor my lips_**_ – I know I love the name too; it's one of my favorites. And I'm thrilled you liked the last chapter, I did as well._

_Thanks again for the reviews!_

**_Sybyll_**_ – No professor Gallimore only lived in the drawer as a ghost, but that would have been funny huh? Hehe._

_And no, I didn't take the name Norrington from Pirates of the Caribbean, I honestly didn't even think of that until you said something. Perhaps I pulled it out of my subconscious that was remembered it from the movie, who knows?_


	14. Meeting Marlin the Dragon

_Now, I know this is probably the millionth time I've apologized for taking so long to update, but I am truly sorry. If you care at all, I was Assistant directing a play during all that time. And I'm sure you can only guess the kind of crazy stress that comes along with something like that._

_But enough apologizing, the good news is that I'm done with the play, and back to writing. So here is a new chapter. Enjoy._

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"Only a month?"

"Yes only a month, I heard it myself." Katie answered in a nervous whisper. She hated to think what would happen if Mr. Norrington found her talking about such things.

"That's so soon," Marianne exclaimed quietly as she cast her eyes to her lap, suddenly deep in thought.

"He is a handsome man after all. I really can't understand why you're so upset; it will be a beautiful wedding." Katie encouraged from across the room. "And you did say yes, didn't you."

"Yes," she answered with a small sad smile, "I did say yes… I don't know what's wrong with me."

Marianne looked up at her mirror and sighed. She had lost her enthusiasm for talking easily with her friend. "Would you mind leaving me alone for awhile, I need to think before breakfast."

Katie nodded once then walked quickly to the door, and left with one last worried glance at her friend.

As the door clicked shut, it was as if her self control was snapped. With a deep sharp breath Marianne let out a sob. She quickly began to control her tears and calm her trembling hands. She didn't have time to redo her carefully set make-up. She was expected to be at breakfast with her fiancé on time, and in perfect composure. She always had perfect composure; it was expected of a young witch of her caliber. Or at least that's what she was constantly told.

She was born to marry; she had known that all her life. She was born to learn how to be the perfect wife, and the perfect mother. She was taught to use her wand to clean and to polish. To cook and to serve, all while looking her absolute best and never letting them see her frown.

And that had been alright by her for a long time, all through her nieve childhood. She looked towards her fated marriage, like a fairy tale of love and romance. The handsome prince coming to sweep her away from her dull life and plunging her into a life of adventure and intrigue.

But when she grew up, she realized that love would never come to her, that marriage would be a responsibility, a publicity move for her father. But like the good daughter she had been raised to be, she never complained. She kept her pain on the inside and never let them see her less than thrilled by the prospect of marriage.

Marianne stood up and straightened her skirts before turning to head down to breakfast, she couldn't be late.

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Harry apparated onto the small field with a pop. Looking around he spotted the small house Remus had described in the OWL Harry had received the day before. It sat alone, hidden away among trees on the outskirts of Hogesmede. It reminded him of the Burrow. It was three stories tall and thin; however it was nicely kept and had a thick, but organized garden before it. The house was painted a dusty white, and the trim was a shocking shade of blue. Harry smiled warmly as he imagined his good friend Tonks picking the colors. However, what amused him most was the pink front door that perfectly matched her famous hair.

As Harry reached the door, he barely had time to raise his hand and knock before the door flew open and a small girl came dashing out with a huge smile across her face.

"Uncle Harry!" she yelled coming to a halt right before him. She looked up at him and began swishing her fluffy pink skirts. She was a young girl, no more than three, but was much smaller than the average child. Her hair was a light auburn and cut cleanly above her shoulders. She had large blue eyes, and appeared to have chosen her own clothing that morning, all of which were set around an old torn tutu.

"You must be Isabelle?" Harry asked with a grin. He had already fallen in love with the child who lovingly addressed him as uncle, before having ever truly met him.

"Uh huh." She answered reaching up towards the man above her. "Daddy said you would come today, so I waited by the window all morning, and so did Marlin." She exclaimed happily as Harry lifted the child off the ground and into his arms. He carried her through the open door, and shut it quietly behind them. "Do you want to meet Marlin?" She asked.

"I sure do," Harry exclaimed as he surveyed the room before him. It was large and cluttered with toys and nick knacks; there were books and broken quills around a desk in the corner. He could tell that no matter how hard Remus tried to control the whirl wind that is Tonks, he was failing miserably. However Harry took comfort in the homeliness of his surroundings.

"I'll go get him," Isabella said, pushing herself off Harry and running clumsily to a window seat in the next room.

Just then Remus walked casually into the room from the long hall. "Glad to see you sober my friend," he said jokingly. Harry laughed and scratched his head in embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry you had to see me like that," he said meekly, "I'll try and explain, but…" Suddenly Harry felt a persistent tugging at his pant leg.

Remus was now looking down at his daughter, his eyes filled with the deepest love imaginable.

Looking down, Harry came face to face with a very old and patched up dragon, whose head was drooping to one side, and who's mismatched button eyes were crooked and chipped. "This is Marlin!" she said shyly, "he really wants to meet you too."

Scooping the child and stuffed dragon up into his arms again, Harry fingered the doll. "Did he?" he asked. "Well I'm certainly glad I got to meet him… he seems like a happy dragon. Is he nice to you?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Isabelle answered, "except for when it rains."

"Why is that?" Harry asked.

"Because then he can't fly of course," she exclaimed loudly and as if she had wasted her breath explaining such an obvious thing.

"Oh I see." He chuckled.

Remus walked over and took his daughter lovingly from Harry. "You know Uncle Harry fought a dragon once," he told her.

Isabelle looked over at him, her eyes full of wonder. "Be a good girl and go see mommy and Uncle Harry will tell you the story later, alright?" he told her, setting her on the ground.

This seemed like a fair proposition because she quickly ran down the hall and began climbing the stairs as fast as her short legs could carry her.

"She's enchanting," Harry told him, as she disappeared around a corner. "You are an amazing father."

"You would be as well Harry." Remus told him sincerely. If there was one thing that Remus saw the most in his young friend, it wasn't courage or fame, it was the deepest ability to love. Harry needed a family, it was the only way he would ever be truly happy.

Harry grinned but didn't comment so Remus gestured towards two chairs in the adjacent room.

Taking a seat, Harry rolled his shoulders, desperately willing the stress and nerves away. This meeting was both absurd and desperately necessary.

"Well, like I said earlier, I am really sorry you had to see me drunk, but I do appreciate you helping me back home," Harry said, slightly avoiding the older mans curiously relaxed gaze. "I meant to talk to you that night, but…" he paused looking for the right words. "I guess something a bit unexpected came up…" Harry paused again, "I don't know what I'm doing Remus, I must be going out of my mind,"

Remus looked across at the young man who was now holding his head between his hands. There was something going on, something serious, but he knew that he needed to calm Harry down before he got a reasonable explanation.

"So, McGonagall was pretty angry when I saw her last," Remus interrupted, trying to change the subject.

Harry looked up, and snickered, "ya, and to be honest she had every right to be… did she tell you I skipped a week of classes?" Harry asked.

"She sure did, and that you stole the school libraries collection of history books… I was pretty concerned that you had gone mental my boy."

Harry laughed again, and sat back against the chair, trying desperately to pull himself together. "I think I have gone mental."

"Harry you need something from me, I know you do. Now you know that I will help you, but I need to know what's going on."

Harry watched him closely, his eyes set in a thinning line, his mind churning on how he should address the strange request. "I need to find someone," he paused as he collected his scrambled thoughts, "I think I'm supposed to find someone… a girl," he finished.

"You said something about a girl that night I brought you home," Remus said amused, "but you said you need to go to 1930 something," he laughed.

Harry forced a small smile and laughed "the things people say when there drunk… ridiculous, why would I need to go to the 1930s."

The two men laughed together for a long moment, but Remus stopped abruptly when he realized that Harry wasn't nearly as amused as he was, in fact he seemed even more nervous.

"Harry," he asked slowly, "please tell me you don't want to go to the 1930s."

Harry looked at him sharply and said nothing.

"You can't be serious… are you serious?" he asked.

Harry nodded slowly, "please Remus, you're the only person I can think to come to, I don't know who else could get me there and back."

"Come back? Do you have any idea what it takes to travel back in time, and return?"

Harry nodded; he did in fact know what it took. "Yes, and that's why I'm asking you, you're the only one who can get me one, you work for the ministry don't you?"

Remus nodded, "Yes, but I work as a representative with the Werewolf Support Services, I have no way of getting you that kind of portkey, its nearly impossible."

"I know, but you are great at the impossible Remus!" Harry shouted, scooting to the end of his seat. "You are my last hope, I have to get there soon, I'm running out of time." He exclaimed.

"Running out of time to do what?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Thanks so much for sticking with me, I assure you there is still a long ride ahead of us with this story, and I'm super excited._

_I thought I would also give you a little preview into the next chapter… so…_

_**Next!** We find out what happened when Harry went back to visit Katie, just before he got drunk in the bar. Questions will be answered, and we will find out if Remus is able to get the mysterious mode of transportation that Harry needs so much._

_Alright, that's all you get today. Now, please please please REVIEW!_

_-Antiquesong_

**_Bloodless Ace_**_ – Thanks Love! I'm glad you enjoyed it!_

**_blondishbrownish_**_ – HI! I love you so much; you are my favorite Abram ever! So ya, I like drunk Harry too. And ya, I intended the end to be pretty confusing, but it will make sense later I hope, but right now a little confusion is definitely OK. _

**_Sybyll_**_ – No, you hadn't missed a chapter, that last one was supposed to be a little confusing, but it's all going to come together soon I promise, just give it some time. I love your theories about the painting. But no, the painting isn't cursed to drive people insane, but it sure seems like that doesn't it. I'm hoping to give you a really good explanation in the next chapter!_

_**KT** – You're the greatest, and you're coming back in the next chapter, isn't that great!_


	15. Fate or Madness

_Hey everyone! So, I'm really excited about winter break because I'll finally get to do as much writing as I want to. Hooray!_

_Now, as I reread this chapter, I was a little afraid that I once again left you guys terribly confused, it's hard to tell how you will decipher what I say, seeing as how I already know the plot line. I fear I am always too vague. However I really do hope that you find a few answers here, and if not, just leave any questions in a review and I will be glad to answer them…_

_Now on with the show!_

* * *

**Flashback**

_It simply didn't make any logical sense. There was something there, something trying to push its way through and into his mind, but he just couldn't figure out what._

"_Marianne Norrington" he repeated in his head over and over again as he poured over the dozens of open texts strewn across his floor. Surely there must be something, somewhere, that could give him some idea of who she was. He was determined, he knew deep down that if he refused to give up, that eventually the answer would surface._

_Suddenly a loud repetitive ding came from the grandfather clock at the other side of the room, persistently reminding Harry that he was about to once again miss another class._

_Reaching over, Harry picked up a thinner, fairly newer book entitled, "The History of the Ministry of Magic," and absent mindedly began flipping towards the end where anything regarding the thirties might be, while still scanning the open page of "Hogwarts a History" for the fourth time._

_Looking curiously at the newly opened book, a name caught his attention, so profoundly that he shoved all the others aside causing them to bend and tear, so that he could lay the small text on the floor._

"_Minister Charles Norrington, elected in 1931," he read. A sudden shot of joy and udder accomplishment ripped through him. He read the short paragraph on the man over and over and over again. "His daughter, engaged and then disappeared," he heard himself say quietly._

"_Disappear where?" _

_Standing up he walked briskly to the fireplace where he had hung, only the night before the glorious painting of Marianne. He set the book down on the mantel next to the page he had illegally torn out of the record book._

_His mind was reeling a million miles a minute. He knew that he played a part in this girl's life somehow, but simply could not decipher how._

_Harry walked into his study and took out a sheet of paper, he really needed to get out of the house, he needed to talk to someone, anyone, even if it was about the most insignificant things._

_Harry wrote a quick note to Remus asking him if he would like to meet him at the leaky cauldron that evening to catch up. At least he could have an easy drink with a friend to get his mind off of things._

_Sealing the letter with a drop of red wax, Harry opened his floo, which had been closed to avoid the unwanted visit of what would be a very angry McGonagall. Pushing the nose on the lion, he called Rosie to bring the letter to Hedwig. _

_Once she had gone, Harry sat on the couch and put his head in his hands as thousands of scenarios flashed back and forth in his mind._

_And then suddenly an idea hit him, something he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of before. It was so ridiculously obvious. It might not work of course. But he had to try. _

_

* * *

_

_Harry apparated once again onto the familiarly well kept muggle street that he had visited only once before. He adjusted his glasses and came out from behind the small dumpster._

_The house was placed across the street just as he had remembered. Harry walked up to the house, across the small lawn and came to a stop at the white front door._

_Harry raised a shaking hand and knocked twice. _

_He was nervous, though he was not sure why, whether it be because he feared being turned away, or because he feared what he may learn, or perhaps that he would discover this mystery to be far less than he had led himself to imagine. He did not know._

_The door opened to reveal the plain young woman who had greeted him upon his last visit._

"_Hello" she said kindly, having most likely forgotten him, "May I help you."_

_Harry took a deep breath and smiled. "I don't know if you remember me, but I was here about a week ago. " He said slowly._

_The young woman's eyes narrowed and he could see realization flash across them. "Yes of course, Mr. Potter, I can't believe I didn't recognize you, forgive me."_

_Harry smiled, "No it's quiet alright, but I'm afraid I have forgotten your name."_

"_Carla Baker," she said sweetly, "please come in."_

_Harry passed her and stood by the same old black and white photograph he had admired before._

_Once Carla had shut the door she turned back around and smiled shyly at Harry. Harry couldn't help but notice that she was perhaps a bit smitten with him herself, or at least with his fame. "Can I get you tea?" she asked him._

"_No thank you, I really don't have the time." He lied, in reality he just wanted to get to the oh so important meeting with her grandmother as soon as possible. "Is your grandmother doing alright?" he asked her quietly, "I remember last time you expressed that she was very ill."_

"_Yes, she is actually doing a bit better, thank you for asking." Harry nodded and glanced up at the staircase where he presumed the old woman was at that very moment._

"_I know this is very strange, but I was wondering if it would be alright if I talked with your grandmother, alone," he asked nervously, "It's very important."_

_Carla looked at him a little taken aback, "I'm afraid she hasn't been well enough to see anyone, she hasn't wanted visitors."_

_Harry sighed, "I understand, but if you would just tell her that I'm here, it really is important."_

_The woman looked at him hardly then nodded, "Alright, you may sit anywhere, make yourself at home," she told him in the false sincerity of a good hostess._

_Harry smiled but stayed planted to the spot as he watched her quickly climb the staircase._

_No more than a moment went by before she appeared from behind a corner at the top of the stairs, looking shocked. "She does want to see you," she said slowly, "apparently she has been expecting you for days… have you sent my grandmother a letter Mr. Potter, because I never remember delivering one." She told him._

"_No, I did not," Harry replied, waiting for an invitation to move._

_Carla nodded and sighed, "She has become very strange lately, and hopefully this will clear her mind. You may come up."_

_Harry released a sharp breath he had been holding and climbed the stairs as quickly as his legs could muster._

_The young woman gave him a strange look and then turned and led him to a room at the far end of the hall._

* * *

"Running out of time to do what"

Harry looked at Remus as if he was deciding something profoundly complex in him mind. Then having decided, he spoke, "I am supposed to bring her back." He told Remus quietly; unsure of the response he would receive.

"Harry, I know you have been through a lot, and I know you are dealing with some sudden changes, but you need to realize what you are saying."

Harry stood up from the couch and walked to the window so that his back was to the older man, "That's right you don't know what I've been through," he told him firmly. "I don't expect you to, but I'm sick and tired of people thinking that every little thing I do, every abnormal emotion or behavior is some unfortunate affect of the war, and of Ginny."

Remus sighed, and began to speak again, but Harry cut him off. "I may feel as though I'm going mad, but I know I'm not, I just know it. There is too much to tell you, too much for you to understand, but I need you to believe me." Harry said, having now turned around to face Remus. "I need you to help me and to believe me. I don't know everything, and god knows I don't understand, but I know for absolute certain that I am destined to find this girl, I am supposed to bring her back with me, and I am supposed to do it…" Harry glanced at his bewitched wrist watch. "Before October 29th, which is only 35 days away, and I need all the time I can get."

Remus shook his head bewildered, "to do what Harry? This makes no sense, you are making no sense."

"I know, I know, it's terribly hard for you to understand, it's terribly hard for me to understand, but I need to do this, and if the laws of time are as definite as I believe them to be, I believe I _will_ do it." He elaborated.

Remus sat back in his chair and studied his young friend. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to believe the boy, but something about his calm desperation told him that he should. The only problem was that in order to believe him, he would also need to help him, which was the most dangerous task of them all.

"Alright Harry I believe you, I think it's a damn foolish thing to do because my common sense tells me you're a bloody fool, but there is another part of me that wants to believe everything you say."

Harry laughed shallowly, "Tell me about it, my common sense has been against me for weeks, and yet I'm still convinced this is what I am supposed to do."

"And I'll even help you get the port key Harry, but I need to know one more thing before I let you go through with this, and I promise not to laugh or anything of the sort, but I need to know what this girl is to you. Why are you doing this Harry?"

Harry stood stone still, he knew what she was to him, he had come to terms with it only recently, but to say it aloud would be to make it solid, to make it real, and he was afraid of that most of all.

"I… I think I love her." He told him.

* * *

_Harry walked into the small brightly light bedroom where a small elderly lady lay in a clean white nightgown. Despite her age and obvious illness, he could see in her features that she was once a very handsome woman; her eyes were blue and swam with life. _

_The woman looked over at him and sucked in a breath, sharp and thick. She smiled as if it were not the first time she had seen him. "Hello Harry," she said sweetly._

_Harry nodded and closed the door behind him. He could just barely see the outline of Carla as she slowly moved back down the stairs, trying all the while to see into her grandmother's bedroom._

_Harry walked over to a small old chair that sat next to the bed. The old woman pushed up her torso with her hands in an effort to prop herself up higher onto the pillows. Harry immediately went to help her, but she waved him off, "Don't bother dear, I'm perfectly able, my granddaughter vastly over exaggerated my illness." _

_Katie looked at the young man with a sweet sadness, "It has been so very very long since I have seen you, and to tell the truth, I have been expecting you to come back," she sighed. Harry gave her a confused look._

"_Let's just say I was warned," Katie laughed._

_Suddenly Harry realized that he had no clue what to ask her, now that he was here, his mind was blank._

_After a long silence Katie rolled her eyes, and clapped her hands upon her blanketed legs in a grandmotherly fashion, "now come on Harry, you came here to ask me about Marianne, so get on with it."_

_Harry sat back shocked, part of him was aware that she knew of Marianne, but another part of him was taken aback by her forcefulness._

"_Uh, ya, ya I guess I was wondering about Marianne, or," he stopped and collected his thoughts, "to be honest I don't know what I came here for, answers I suppose."_

_Katie grinned and nodded, "She was the daughter of the Minister of Magic, but I suspect you already knew that," she stated glancing at Harry before turning her gaze away again. She seemed happy, very happy to be sharing the information with him._

"_They lived in a home, a home that has been torn down since unfortunately, but nevertheless, a beautiful home on a hill above the forest, just outside hogsmeade."_

_Harry sat forward a little as she continued her story in the traditional elderly fashion of a woman who loves to talk of her past._

"_I was a maid, I worked for the family, but Marianne and I were great friends, very great friends indeed, although her father never knew about it, I don't think he would have approved. Anyway, Marianne's mother died when she was very young while trying to give birth to her second child, who also died. So Marianne lived most of her life with her father, and of course the pristine society of England. You see being the minister of magic was much more of a high society position than political. If I remember correctly his advisors did most of the work and decision making, not that there was much decisions to make. All Mr. Norrington really did was throw parties, very grand parties." Katie looked back at Harry as if deciding how much more to say._

"_I fear I am getting carried away with my story Mr. Potter, she said slowly, I have forgotten that although you are the boy I remember, I am not that girl... I almost felt seventeen again," she said quietly._

_Suddenly her happy disposition faded and he was left with the sad woman he had seen only briefly when he walked into the room._

"_Most of Marianne's story is for you to find out for yourself, it is not my place to say, but let me warn you my dear boy, that you are running out of time." She was stern now, almost reprimanding, "You may be apprehensive now, but you need to make up your mind and get on with it. I don't mean to seem pushy, but… well, like I said, it isn't my place. You need to do what you need to do Harry, and I know you know what that is, you know it in your heart." Katie gave him a small genuine smile. _

_She looked over at the calendar on the wall next to her bed, "October 29th," she said with a nod, "Yes, it was October 29th, that is when you need to have her convinced." And with that she settled herself deeply into her pillows._

"_Now, why don't you go off, if I recall correctly, which I always do, you have quite an interesting meeting with a werewolf friend of yours tonight… correct?" _

_

* * *

_

_There it is, and I hope you like it… _

_Now remember:_

More Reviews

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_Alright?_

_Good! Now don't forget to send me questions, I really will answer them if I don't think I'm giving away too much. _

_Hugs and Kisses and a Merry Christmas!_

_-Antiquesong_

_

* * *

****__humor my lips__ – I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I know… Harry does seem mental, but he's not I promise. And of course it will work out, it always does. _

**_Bob33_**_ – I'm super glad you're reading the story, and I am sorry about the cliff hanger, but if there's one thing you should know about me, its that I love writing cliffhangers, so get used to it. I guess it's easier to write cliff hangers when it's your own story, its not like you're under any suspense yourself. lol._

**_blondishbrownish_**_ – I loved being your AD too, it was great fun, and you're right, I will have time to update now, so no more worries. Kisses love._

**_lia23_**_ – Ya, I'm really sorry about the long update, but I should be getting a whole lot quicker now I promise. But, I'm really glad you're keeping up with the story, I hope I don't let you down. _

**_socks4dobby_**_ – Hey, I noticed you reviewed in the fourth chapter, I hope you're enjoying the story, and I hope you like the new chapter! (p.s. love the screen name ;)_

**_Sybyll_**_ – Hello love, I am sorry about the long update, but hopefully I'll be quicker now, I'm just glad you're keeping with the story. And to answer your first question, yes she is the girl in the painting._

_And I really do feel for you with that holiday play, boys are hard to get when it comes to theatre. I have been recruiting guys for our spring musical for weeks. Tough job._

_Well, hope you liked the chapter, the next one will be up soon. _

_**KT** – I really shouldn't be sending you a reply seeing as how you didn't leave me a review stupid head. But I really shouldn't complain since I haven't reviewed your stuff either. Stupid me._

_Well just don't let it happen again, and I'll go review yours. Love ya babe. Hope you're having fun with your sister and the babies. Maybe we can hang out soon. Kisses._


	16. The Stolen Coin

_Alright, here's chapter 16, finally, sorry to keep you waiting… again._

_ Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Remus Lupin walked away from the ministry building as calmly as he could. The weight in his pocket made his heart beat just a little faster with each step. To anyone of his coworkers he appeared just the same as he did everyday, he was just as cheery, just as productive and just as prompt. So who would have thought that perfect Remus Lupin had stolen one of the ministries most valuable and expensive commodities right from under the minister's nose.

The heavy golden coin appeared to the average onlooker to be just like any other Galleon, although it was certainly much more valuable.

* * *

Harry held the small coin in his palm, his face beaming and his heart thumping, he now had everything he needed, except of course, a plan.

He had worked out a few things in his head the night before and during his uncomfortable classes where he avoided questions regarding his absence. He had simply distracted his students with a quiz while he let his mind wander.

Going back in time was not going to be easy, that was for sure. He was going to need an intricate plan, a new name, and a high position in society. He didn't know what to expect, but he knew in his bones that fate would not let him stumble.

"So how does it work exactly" Harry asked the man sitting across from him.

Lupin rubbed his face in an attempt to wash away the reality of what he had just done. This would certainly be in the newspapers tomorrow with speculations about what the thief could have wanted with the token. There would be crazy ideas of deatheaters returning to reverse the victory of the war, Voldomort's return, mass panic and worry. By the end of the weekend there was bound to be a new flock of pamphlets in the mail preparing everyone for the worst.

And then there would be the swarm of panic at the ministry, meetings and investigations. There would be paperwork and every Auror would be searching the home of every suspected criminal in the country.

But what he was most worried about was how he was going to explain the sudden disappearance of the great Harry Potter. He was the only one that knew what he was really doing, and therefore he alone could hide him.

As he sat at his desk earlier that day, gazing at the mounds of boring paperwork, he had concocted a plan, it wasn't great, but it might be simple enough to work.

He would somehow let it slip as he chatted with his coworkers that when Harry had heard about the big scare he ran off to France with a new lover. So rather than taking the focus away from Harry, he would pin it right onto him. Every reporter at the Daily Prophet would be writing that Harry Potter was in love, and they would all be trapesing around Europe looking for him. The attention would certainly be on him, but for all the wrong reasons.

So when Harry did return, and with a mysterious woman no less, no one would be surprised. The only problem was, he still hadn't come up with a plan to get the coin back without the blame being on him, because such an offense would certainly earn him a one way ticket to Azkaban.

Lupin pulled himself away from his thoughts and focused back on Harry whom he had already related his plan to so that he knew what to expect in the upcoming days, as well as upon his return.

"It's actually remarkably simple" he told him as he moved to sit on the end of the leather chair in Harry's study. "Do you see those numbers?" he asked pointing to a set of four small characters on one side of the coin.

"Yes," Harry responded, "That's the year."

"That's right, now if you were to change the year while holding it, the coin will transport you back to that year." Lupin told him, feeling like the teacher he once was.

"Except that it can only take you back by year not day, correct?" Harry finished.

Remus nodded. "So if you left right now, you would arrive in nineteen-thirty-four at exactly," he older man looked over at the wall clock next to the door. "Six-twenty-three on September the twenty-fifth."

Harry nodded, "Now I knew all of this from my reading but there is one thing I didn't quite understand. I know that I can return to my own time, but that the same time I spent away will have elapsed here."

Remus nodded, "That's correct, but I wouldn't worry no one will be surprised if all goes well."

Harry nodded again, feeling a little bit better about the situation, "Right, but has anyone ever tried to bring someone back with them before?"

Remus was expecting this, "As far as the community is concerned, no. The ministry found out about thirty years ago that you can in fact use it to transfer people into the future, and quite safely at that. But it has been under wraps, it's hard enough to keep this from being stolen, but if anyone knew about this, I'm afraid all hell would break loose."

"Do _you_ think it's safe?" he asked cautiously, his fear beginning to return.

"That I can't tell you, we can only hope Harry. You said that you need to do this, so maybe fate will be on your side… but I just don't know."

Harry rubbed the coin with his fingers once more before standing up and safely putting it into a small brown box on his bookcase. "Well, would you care for some tea?"

* * *

The leaky cauldron was bustling with late night drinkers and Friday night partiers who were ending their evenings with a good drink and a few laughs, so it wasn't a surprise that Remus Lupin who was drowning his worry and regret in firewisky to see Ron and Hermione enter, laughing as they held each other closely. They must have just returned from their honeymoon.

"Remus!" he heard the young woman shout from the entrance. He stood up slowly and turned to embrace the smiling brunette.

"How was your honeymoon my dear?" he asked her as she peeled off her coat and set it over one of the bar stools.

"Oh it was wonderful, Italy was beautiful." Ron smirked at this. "It would have been more beautiful if we had seen more than the inside of every museum in the country." He continued. Hermione laughed and put her arm around his waist.

Lupin was surprised at their obvious merriment; Hermione would usually bite his head off for such a comment. He remembered the post marital bliss he had enjoyed after his own wedding. He only hoped that they would be as happy as he is now, after being married for years. But something told him that they would be, they were a perfect match.

"So what are you doing here all alone, shouldn't you be at home with Tonks?" Ron asked.

Lupin smiled, "Oh I'm just about to go home, I needed a drink and a little time to think, today was a big day for me."

Hermione smiled, "Tough day at work?" she asked.

"Oh you could say that, or rather that there will be some tough times at work," He commented. At the look on Ron's face, he realized he had said too much, he had just gotten himself into a tight spot if he wasn't careful.

"What's going on at the ministry?" Ron asked curiously.

"Oh nothing, just a few unexpected complications with werewolf activity in Belgium," he lied.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll work out," Ron said, although he didn't look convinced.

"Well, we were just out having dinner and thought we would come and have a drink, then we might go and see Harry, we missed him so much while we were gone, and he never wrote, even though he promised he would." Hermione said dryly. "And Ron's mum said that she heard from McGonagall that he has been acting strangely the past week or so." Ron nodded at this. "So we thought we'd drop by and make sure everything is alright, I worry too much I'm sure, but he was having all of those weird dreams, and obsessing over paintings, I just want to keep an eye on him."

Lupin's throat went dry, they couldn't go see him tonight, he was planning on leaving tonight, if they got there before he left things might get far more complicated then they needed to be. Until Harry returned he needed even his best friends to believe that he had simply run off to France.

"I don't think that would be such a wise idea, I just saw him this afternoon and I don't think he was too keen on company, not right now at least."

Hermione laughed, "Don't be ridiculous, Harry will always see us."

She was right he thought; Harry would never normally turn away Ron and Hermione, especially right after their honeymoon.

"Well, I just think it would be better if you went tomorrow, you know its Saturday and all." Remus knew that his voice was betraying him, he was talking complete nonsense, and they knew it.

Hermione turned in her seat and looked at him sideways, "What are you getting at Remus, you know as well as I that he won't care; now I want to know what's going on right now. You know something that we don't, I can tell, you're a terrible liar."

Remus stared at her blankly for a minute, he was quite positive that he had just dug himself into a very deep hole, it would be much easier to form a great lie for the minister and the entire wizarding community, but to make it convincing for Ron and Hermione was one thing he wasn't going to be able to do.

"Uhm…" he started, trying to find the right words. Maybe he could stall them at least, tell them the truth, but keep them from going to Hogwarts long enough to let Harry leave.

"Remus, Ron, Hermione, lovely to see you all, can I get you something," the kind old bartender asked, interrupting the awkward pause. Remus quietly thanked God for the small miracle.

"No nothing for either of us," Ron told him quickly.

"Alright, but I think you might appreciate a little something, looks like you two are going to be having quite the day tomorrow, have you heard the news from the ministry, its all over the news." The old man asked a trace of excitement in his voice. He always liked a little danger and adventure.

Lupin turned to him sharply, "No…no I haven't," he stuttered, apparently God wasn't being quite as merciful as he had thought.

"That Port Key was stolen, you know the one that transports you back in time or something. It's bound to be one hell of a panic in the morning isn't it; I'm surprised the lots of you haven't already been called into work. I just hope it's nothing too serious, it must have taken a pretty smart thief to steal that, being under such tight security and all."

Remus nodded, slightly amused as he recalled how simple it truly was to steal, and tried to look surprised, but his attempts were not nearly as good as Ron's true shock.

Remus nodded, "Thank you for the news, always good to hear about these things before the bomb falls." The bartender gave them a quick nod and moved down the table to the next set of victims to his gossip.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks while Remus tried to avoid their gaze.

"You know something don't you?" Hermione asked. "You know something about the robbery; I can see it in your eyes."

"For Gods sake woman keep it down." Remus told her sternly, "Yes, alright I know something, and if you two weren't so bloody nosey this whole situation would have been a whole lot easier, but there appears to be nothing left to do but tell you," he said angrily, "Will you two ever been content with staying out of danger?"

"I don't suppose we will," Ron said sternly, "Especially if it has to do with Harry, now tell us what he's done."

* * *

Harry had just placed his last piece of clothing into his suitcase when he heard the knock at his door.

'Who the hell could that be?' he thought to himself, this certainly wasn't a good time for visitors. He was about to do one of the stupidest things of his life, and that was a real achievement considering his past.

He couldn't very well ignore whoever it was… he didn't want any more attention drawn on him.

He walked to the door and opened it with a shaking hand, his nerves just wouldn't stop.

As the door opened Harry had no more than a moment to think before he was bombarded by the two people he really hadn't expected to see at that moment.

"What the bloody hell are you doing Harry?"

* * *

_Alright, that's the end of Chapter 16 and I hope everyone enjoyed it… and I promise that when 17 comes around, which should be soon, that we will be in 1934, I hope you're excited!_

_Thanks for the reviews, keep them up!_

_- Antiquesong_

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_**lia23 **– Yes, the old lady will be pretty important here soon, and I'm thrilled to liked the chapter, hope this one was to your approval as well. Thanks for reading and keep up the reviews. :)_

_**Sybyll** – Hey love, I really appreciate the review. And yes, what you said about time travel is true, and I had thought about that myself. I was hoping no one would notice and make my job simpler, but it appears you are all smarter than I thought. I tried to solve that little issue in this chapter… do you think it worked? Let me know. Thanks!_

**_boyamiconfuzed_**_ – I do love you, a lot, and I haven't reviewed your stories because I'm a stupid ass. I'm sorry; I'll try and do it today. I love you a lot, and I missed you today, I think I'll call you. Hopefully you've read some of Phantom… maybe not. Well anyway… ttyl!_

**_humor my lips_**_ – Hi! I'm really glad that you're glad he's in love. And to answer your question, I will ask you another question… I agree, it would be weird if people found out how Harry fell in love with this girl, or why he went back in time, or that he went back in time at all… so… let's hope that no one finds out! _


	17. Arrivals and Escapes

_Wow, so here's chapter 17, finally! I got in my Zen place, put on some French jazz and persevered my way through it… and here it is… _

_And, what makes it even better, is that my spring break is here, so I should have a lot of free time. Expect 18 in the next day or two._

_Enjoy…_

* * *

The night was Marianne's favorite time of the day. It was the lonely quiet hours when she didn't have to be what was expected, when she didn't have to put on a good face and pretend. The night was never judgmental. 

Marianne would always stay up for an hour or so after the rest of the house went to sleep and sit by her window staring out at the sky, or reading a book of love and adventure. She would dream and pretend that she lived the perfect life, that she too had a great love, someone who touched her heart the way the men in these stories did the beloved heroine.

But she was not destined for such a life, so instead she would let the night be the only witness to her fantasies.

A wave of sadness washed over her that night as she sat and gazed out the bay window that overlooked the long garden and deep forest in the distance. The sky was clear, and almost magical. Recently Marianne had come to the unfortunate conclusion that even her precious nights would no longer be hers, even this small piece of freedom would belong to the husband she didn't want. It seemed that her essence was being slowly sucked away.

Soon, she thought to herself, I will be just as they want me to be, a shell of a woman. No feelings or thoughts…

'It would be so easy to simply allow myself to sink into such a life, to stop feeling, to stop caring,' she  
thought… but her perseverance suggested otherwise.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and stared up at the night sky. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he felt as though his very life had been sucked out and shoved back into himself. 

Turning to the right he saw Ron grope awkwardly, his tired eyes searching for Hermione who had fallen just to his right, she was breathing hard and had her hand to her forehead.

"Are you two alright?" Harry asked weakly.

Ron nodded, "Hermione? Talk to me, can you breath?" The ruffled young woman nodded and smiled at her husband. "I'm fine, that just took a lot out of me."

The transportation was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced before. It had felt like an eternity of flying quickly through bitter cold winds where it was impossible to breath, then landing hard and painfully on the ground. Far worse than a normal portkey.

Finally gaining the equilibrium to sit up, Harry looked around the front gardens of Hogwarts in front of him. He knew that's where they would end up, seeing as how that's where they'd left, but it was still a bit of a shock to comprehend that they were in a different time. Hogwarts looked exactly the same.

He spotted the three bags a few yards away that they had attempted to transport, their tops were open and the insides were spilling out. Well at least the luggage made it with them, they weren't sure it would. To be honest, they weren't entirely sure the three of them would be able to travel together in the first place… it had been a dangerous risk.

Ron and Hermione had raided his rooms earlier that evening, worried and hysterical; Harry had quickly calmed them down and explained the whole story while cursing Remus for letting his plan slip. But nevertheless Harry could never be truly mad at his best friend's genuine concern.

Harry had certainly not wanted to include anyone on this journey, he was scared and desperately needed company, but was still selfishly concerned that they would ruin the fragile plans he had set.

Harry begged them to leave and not worry, telling them that he wouldn't be gone more than a month. But true to form, Hermione protested exhaustingly, "We're going with you," she argued, "It's going to take a lot to keep us away Harry."

Harry had laughed and flustered around them trying to gather his last necessities before heading out to the apparition point Remus had directed him to.

"_No, we wont let you go alone Harry, there's no way your leaving this castle unless you let us come with you."_

"_You don't need to be with me for everything I do, I can handle this on my own." He told them sternly._

"_Yes, we know you can handle it, but you've always handled everything alone, everyone needs someone else to be with them through the hard times. Stop trying to face your demons alone. That's what was here for." Ron reasoned._

"_We want to do this, we believe you Harry, we believe you and want to help, please let us come, you don't know what to expect, for once you feel unprepared and powerless and that scares you. We know you Harry." Hermione told him, forcing him to look her in the eyes. _

_Harry knew she was right, she was always right, he was scared senseless because he didn't have spells memorized to battle time or love. These were brand new dragons._

_Sighing heavily Harry held back tears, he wanted them with him, fate was sending them to help him through this, how could be deny it._

"_Alright."_

Ron helped his wife up from the ground and the two dusted each other off while Harry tried to shove their belongings back into the bags.

"I can't believe how long it took you to pack Hermione," Harry said calmly, hoping to mask his beating heart and trembling nerves with light banter.

"A girl needs things Harry, and besides I had to pack Ronald's suitcase too, or else he would have brought a pair of underwear and a toothbrush and called it a night." Ron sighed and rolled his eyes.

The three of them stood and gazed at the school… Harry couldn't help but wonder what was happening inside those walls at that very moment, everything must be so much different than he knew it to be. And yet he had a feeling that things were also very much the same.

"Harry where are we going?" Hermione asked after a long moment.

"I haven't decided."

Hermione nodded slowly, "Alright."

"Maybe we should go and see if we can get a room at the leaky cauldron," Harry suggested.

"Do you have money?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Ya, I have plenty of money, and plus it was worth more then… I mean now."

Hermione could sense Harry's turmoil, she could only guess what he was going through, this ordeal must be much more stressful than they could ever imagine.

"Actually, would you two mind getting a room… and uhm, I'll meet you there in a bit?" Harry asked as he pulled out a wad of cash with a shaky hand and tried to count out the right amount. How was he supposed to know how much they would need, he didn't know what anything cost, he didn't know anything, and he didn't have any idea what his next step should be.

A gust of chilly wind blew by and shocked Harry's already fragile nerves causing him to drop the cash on the damp grass.

"Dammit" Harry cursed as he tried to hold back tears, he couldn't hide his fear much longer.

Hermione and Ron rushed over to help pick up the money off the ground. "Harry, of course well take care of everything, you do whatever you need to do. " Hermione told him calmly.

"Just be careful alright mate?" Ron added, unsure of how to handle his emotional best friend.

"Ya, alright." Harry took a few bills and handed the rest to his friends. "I'll find you two later." And with that he mindlessly headed away from the castle and towards the outskirts of the forest.

* * *

"Ron, we can't just let him wander off into the forest, he's not in his right mind, he'll get hurt." 

"He can handle himself, we need to leave him alone right now love, we pushed him to let us come. We have to play by his rules now?" Ron interjected.

"Ya, I guess your right, but he makes me so nervous when he's like this."

Ron pulled his wife closer and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Come on, you and I get to buy a room at the leaky cauldron at 2 am in 1934… doesn't that sound exciting?"

* * *

Marianne pulled a thick long wizards robe over her simple wool skirt and white button up. Her old leather boots, she realized as she rummaged through her trunk were the only sufficient footwear for her midnight escape. 

A thick fur scarf hung over one of her gilded mirrors, and was quickly added to her traveling attire.

Her hair was wrapped up tightly within the small brown cap that covered all but a few loose curls that peeped out from the sides. She prided herself that she looked like nothing more than the modern traveling witch. No one would recognize her if she played her cards right.

Her small suitcase held nothing more than a few necessities, her journal and a picture of her mother, tucked safely between a folded silk slip.

There would be barely a trace of her presence when they came to open her curtains in the morning.

* * *

_Alright, thanks everyone, and expect another chapter really really soon, I have a lot of free time on my hands with spring break upon me... _

_ And by the way... did you know that reviews have been scientifically proven to boost energy, happiness, love and self-esteem? It's true! _

_ Lots of love _

_-AntiqueSong_

* * *

**_Sybyll_**_- Thanks love and I hope you like the developments... As for Harry's job, I think we should leave that problem to Remus... I'm pretty sure he had a pretty swell idea last time I asked. ;) _

**_humor my lips_**_- Hey, sorry about the slow update, I know their no fun... But I hope you liked the chapter, and I know you're going to love the next one, so check soon! _

**_Nony_**_ - Oh goodness love... I know where you're coming from, but it's just too late, I've had Hermione and Ron written into my plot for months... I simply can't take them out now. But I really hope you'll keep reading! Its gonna be a fun ride! _

**_ lia23_**_ - I'm glad you liked it, and I'm terribly sorry that I took forever, again, but you have no reason to doubt that the next one won't be out soon... I promise. _

**_blondishbrownish_**_ - You're review made me realize how horribly long it's been since I updated... It was during cast list wasn't it? Holy Molie! Oh well, here's another one, and I hope you liked it love! _

**_ boyamiconfuzed_**_- Hey, guess what I think! I think if we keep begging that __Disneyland__ may be a yes! Mommy looked very slightly convinced! What does Katie's mommy say? Oh well, tell me later... I'm sorry your arms hurt... but I think this cliff hanger may be slightly less steep... what do you think? _


	18. Stranger in the Night

_I'm a horribly terrible person... No really. This took way too long for apology. _

_Well anyway, I hope you like the next development. I had fun writing it._

**_-Antiquesong _**

* * *

"Oh great… this is just what I needed" Marianne whispered in pain as she sat helplessly in the damp leaves. The fates were against her it seemed; even her last hope for escape was defying her. 

The sturdy walking boot was not nearly as reliable as she had anticipated. Reaching over her ripped the dirty skirt and pulled the boot and broken heel from her foot carefully, avoiding the swelling ankle it encompassed.

"How am I going to explain this to father" she pondered sadly. She certainly wouldn't be able to cover up the fact that she was trying to run away if found. And he would never be able to accept that she might be unhappy, he would just call her ill and keep her in bed for days while she recovered from a temporary confusion.

No, she couldn't go back, surely within a few minutes the swelling will have gone down enough to allow her to get to the train before it departs. This had to work, her happiness depended on it.

* * *

Harry was sitting against a wide tree, looking through the bushes at Hogwarts in the distance. "I wonder if my grandparents are there now?' he thought to himself, it had become Harry's latest obsession as he sat quietly thinking of the day's events. He had never known his family, what would it hurt to try and meet some of them now, then again, would it be wise of him? He still remembered Dumbledore's wise words when he had fallen across the Mirror of Erised. 

Through Harry's mournful musings he was sure he heard the rustle of the bushes and an annoyed curse in the distance. Harry stood up and brushed himself off before turning towards the noise. Could there be someone injured? Slowly, so not to startle them, he made his way to the end of the forest where he expected to find the unfortunate wanderer; his confusing evening was in need of a distraction.

* * *

Marianne sat massaging her ankle waiting none too patiently for it to feel well enough to walk on, if it ever would. It was no surprise to her that this had happened, none at all. She was destined to be chained to that house. If she ever wandered too far from that sickly ideal life she would be pulled back by any means possible. 

"Must not cry, must not cry" she chanted quietly to no avail as the cold tears began running coolly down her cheeks.

"Yes, you mustn't cry" came a soft voice behind her.

Drying her tears with the back of her hand she tried to cover her exposed knees and turned around to confront the voice.

"Who's there?" she asked into the dark.

A youthfully handsome man stepped out of the shadows and smiled, "I'm sorry to frighten you; I just heard you fall and thought I could help."

Marianne looked him over judgingly, "No offense sir, but I'd prefer not to be approached by someone who hides about in the forest at this time of the night."

"I can assure you I will do you no harm, I'm… new to this area…" Harry said with a small voice, as he tried to convince the unfortunate girl to trust him. She was obviously in need of help, whoever she was. "I was just taking a walk. Why? Is there a reason why I should not be walking through these trees? And if there is, I must ask why you are here all alone."

"There are many things to fear in this forest, but luckily for you, the two of us are too close to the outskirts to be harmed. I was actually on my way to the train station in Hogsmeade; I thought it would be more… scenic… and private to cut through a bit of the forest instead." Marianne knew immediately that her unlikely story would not be accepted by the stranger. But how could she admit that she didn't take the safer path because she didn't want to be caught by her father… the minister, at that. Good thing this man is a newcomer, it made it much more likely that he wouldn't recognize her and send her back home to her fiancé.

"Yes, well, I think we should really get you out of here and to a hotel or back to wherever you came from, but I really don't think you should get on a train tonight. Can you wait until tomorrow?" He asked as he approached her and offered her his hand.

"No, I understand your concern sir, but it is imperative that I get on this train, and it leaves in under an hour… I think." Her voice dropped off at the end when she was once again reminded that she really had no idea exactly when the next train to London was leaving.

"You mean you don't know?" Harry asked concerned as he stood behind her and helped her to stand and balance herself against a tree, it was obvious that her ankle was less severe than he had thought.

"Well, not exactly, I didn't really have time to check departure times; you see I had to leave very abruptly." She said confidently. There, no self respecting man would question her reasoning. She turned and got her first good look at her rescuer. He really was a very handsome man, she observed. It was times like this when she wished she wasn't confined by a marriage contract. She smiled and cast her eyes to the ground, ashamed of her thoughts. Of course if she succeeded with this scheme, she _would_ soon be free to think such things.

Harry looked shocked and confused at the beautiful face before him. 'This is her,' he thought to himself, it was extraordinary, but it was nonetheless her. The beauty he had traveled painfully through decades to meet was standing right before him, and his heart jumped as he slowly began to comprehend his situation. He as gazing at this beautiful creation, no longer the still painting of a dead woman from years ago. She was standing before him, warm flesh and blood. How divine it would be to touch her, to feel the real skin on her face.

Marianne looked up at him and saw the obvious recognition etched across his face. "Oh no, this is just wonderful, and I thought I had found someone who would help me." She exclaimed… all her hopes of gaining freedom lost in that single moment of recognition.

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked confused, it was true he had been staring at her like an idiot, but what had her so upset?

"Please sir, please don't send me home. I know it seems like the right thing to do, but I beg of you to just help me to the train station and let me disappear, my father will never know, nothing will happen to you, I will make sure of it. You have no idea how much this means to me." Her passionate speech had coaxed a glistening coat of tears on her beautiful eyes and delicate cheeks, making her carefully applied makeup smear into little streams down her face.

It was slowly dawning on Harry what she was going on about. She was running away, and feared he had recognized her as the minister's daughter and would send her back home. At that moment Harry realized that he had just been caught in a terribly difficult situation. He certainly wanted to earn her respect and affection, but then again, did he want to let her run off to who knows where, possibly never to be found again. Or should he send her safely home where he could confidently find her. It would take a great lot of scheming to keep this lovely woman near him, and obtain a friendship while at it. What to say?

"Ms. Norrington, it's not my place to ask why you need to leave so secretly, and it is not my place to send you back home where you so obviously don't want to go. However seeing as how it is so late, and how you do have a twisted ankle, I'd feel much better if you stayed the night in Hogsmeade… or else allow me to escort you to wherever you are headed… I'd much rather be accused of helping the ministers daughter run away safely rather than leaving her in a forest injured and cold." He jested kindly, suddenly feeling truly joyful again for the first time in weeks.

"Sir, are you telling me that you mean to, help me?" She asked amazed that anyone, knowing who she was would be so self sacrificial. This was almost too much of a risk on his part.

"Sir…" Marianne began, slowly shaking her head.

"Harry." He interrupted quickly offering her a shacking hand, eagerly hoping she would take it. "How rude of me, I should have told you my name earlier, I'm Harry Potter."

Marianne cautiously took his trembling hand and shook it gently, "Nice to meet you Mr. Potter, and I'm Marianne Norrington as I'm sure you know."

As she released his hand, he felt an unreal sense of familiarity in her touch. And as she finished her formal introduction he couldn't help but chuckle at the strangeness of the situation. It felt like an amusingly refreshing switch of roles to meet someone who had never heard his name, but expected him to know theirs.

"As much as I want to get on that train Mr. Potter, I think it would be cruel of me to not warn you. I fear if my father were to discover that you helped me… runaway" she said slowly and cautiously, "you would definitely not be on his list of favorite people. I don't want to see you put in front of the Wizengamot on my behalf."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Well then _Ms. Smith_." He pronounced slowly. "It's lovely to meet you, and I would be happy to escort you to…" he asked, leaving the question hanging.

"London." She said happily, playing along with his game.

"London… And I'm sure your, grandmother? Yes, your grandmother will be delighted to see her lovely granddaughter."

"Yes I'm sure she will be delighted, if she were alive."

Harry chuckled again, "Well if you are so concerned about my well being, why don't we stick to the understanding that I don't know who you are, other than Ms. Smith, and that I am escorting you to London to visit your dear grandmother."

"That works for me. And thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me."

Harry picked up her bag and held out his hand, "Well lucky for you, I happen to be staying in London myself, at the leaky cauldron of all places… Can you apparate?"

"No, unfortunately my father doesn't allow me to learn much magic. That's why I must take the train." She confessed sadly looking into the handsome strangers kind green eyes.

"That's terrible, every witch should be able to learn and use all the magic nature has gifted her."

Marianne was shocked, she couldn't recall a single man of her acquaintance that would agree with that bold statement, most men thought their wives and daughters should be good housekeepers but never gain the power they had personally achieved. "I couldn't agree more." She confessed passionately.

"You would love my friend Hermione; she knows more about everything magic than I ever could. In fact, she knows more about most things than I ever could." He chuckled.

"Hermione?... Your girlfriend?" she asked cautiously. She wasn't sure why she cared so much, but somehow Marianne wildly hoped that this man was single.

"No, no. Hermione is just a very good friend, she married my best mate in fact. The three of us have been inseparable since we were about nine." It made Harry's heart sing that she was concerned about his availability; perhaps he had some hope yet, if only he managed to keep her close. "They came with me on this little trip, their probably deep asleep by now at the leaky cauldron."

"Oh, well, I would love to meet them." She exclaimed sweetly.

Harry offered her his hand so she could stand without the brace of the tree behind her. "Well I can apparate you to London with me if you'd like, but I understand… I know it's a bit inappropriate."

"Oh come now Mr. Potter," she said bravely, "If I really am to succeed in running away from that prison of rules and formalities, than I can do what ever I bloody want. And I suppose I shall start with getting far too close to a man." She exclaimed joyfully, a hint of humor in her voice.

"Indeed?" Harry laughed. "Well alright," he said helping her to walk closely to him.

She boldly put her arms about him and pressed herself tightly to his front, her nerves taking over, as she had never apparated anywhere before, much less at the mercy of a strange man. Of course, being kidnapped by this gorgeously kind stranger didn't seem too horrible at that moment.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath as she put her delicate arms around him, "Hold on tight."

* * *

_**Review**... I know I don't deserve it, but I'm gonna beg anyway... _

**_P.S. I propose a contest... Whoever has put in the most reviews before chapter 20 gets to be in the story... I need a new character comin' up here soon. _**

_**Megz2 - **Wow! Thanks, I'm really glad that you're reading, and liking it at that. Well I hope you like this chapter as well, and that you didn't give up on me._

_**blondishbrownish** - Hi love! I miss you. Well I hope you liked the chapter, and I hope we can get together in one way or another. See ya soon. kisses._

_**lia23 **- Yea! Thanks for reading... and I'm really sorry I'm such a disappointment, I'll try really hard not to disappear anymore._

_**humor my lips** - I'm glad she ran away too... and I think this chapter answered your question pretty well... lol. _

_**boyamiconfuzed **- Look I did it! Yea for Danielle! Now dont bug me... I'll update again in a few days OKAY! (P.S. the review contest doesn't count for you... you're already in the story. Sucks for Katie... HEHE) _


	19. Another Grand Adventure

_Hooray! I hope you like the new chapter. I tried to make it a little longer. I think the next will be even more so._

_-Antiquesong_

* * *

The two entangled bodies appeared suddenly in the dark and almost deserted street of Diagon Alley. 

Marianne stumbled back, her head reeling and her usually steady footing faltered.

Harry reached out and held her steady, not wanting to worsen her fragile ankle… but more honestly, not wanting to lose the divine contact.

"Are you alright Ms. Norrington?" Harry asked gently as he noticed her quickly paling feature.

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

Marianne smiled sweetly and stepped back from Harry's warm embrace. She suddenly felt the reality of her situation. She was in London at night, and alone with a complete stranger… one who obviously didn't know how to act properly in the presence of a witch of her status. Not that she minded of course, it was a pleasure to escape the formalities of her everyday life.

"I think I'll be alright, I just wish I had somewhere to sit down," she commented, as she scanned the barren street with its locked doors and flickering street lights.

"Well, if you were a man, I'd tell you to sit on the ground, but I would hate to see you get that beautiful skirt dirty."

Marianne giggled. The stranger's polite sense of humor comforted her. She offered him her hand and smiled at his apparent nervousness.

"Well, I believe I agreed to escort you to the train." Harry stated casually, despite his churning fear that she would really leave. If only his clogged brain could think of a way to get her to stay in London before she was too far away for him to stop her, or protect her for that matter. Voldemort may not be in power, but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous for a young witch, especially one who couldn't even magically defend herself.

Marianne smiled seductively… my, my, wasn't she feeling daring today. Not at all like the young lady she was brought up to be. "Are you really going to let me go so easily Mr. Potter? I thought you were beginning to fancy me."

Marianne would not have been surprised if Harry's jaw hadn't dropped down to the ground at that moment. She could certainly see the shock in his eyes.

"I won't deny it Ms. Norrington. You do fascinate me. But I would hate to keep you from your dear grandmother."

"Oh, I think she can do without me for a little while longer. And it's not as if she can tell on me, she's been rather quiet these last few years."

Harry laughed, "Well then, in that case I would be happy to invite you to spend the week with me and my friends. We would be happy to have you."

Marianne beamed. "Thank you very much. May I consider this an adventure? I've never really had one of those before." She asked, her voice now losing its mature mask of control and taking on the childish innocence she felt.

"Yes, I think you can. It's very sad that you have never been on any adventures Ms. Norrington."

"Yes, I think so as well… Why? Have you been on any great adventures? Oh, I'm sure you have, traveling man probably have dozens of adventures."

Harry smirked and took her elbow, gently leading her toward the leaky cauldron. "Oh yes, I have been on many adventures. Though some of them were a bit more dangerous than those of a… what did you call me… a traveling man?"

"Really! Will you tell me about them?"

"Perhaps sometime. But right now I think I'd better get you a room for the night, you must be very tired… you are my responsibility during this adventure after all."

Marianne smiled and looked up at the shadowy building ahead of them. "Is that the leaky cauldron?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear. I don't think I can stay there. I'm sure it's the first place my father will look, isn't it?"

Harry stopped and looked around "Yes, you're right. I didn't think of that. Well, then well have to go somewhere better to hide you, where he won't think to look, and where people don't know who you are."

Marianne pursed her lips. "Mr. Potter, I know how I must have sounded earlier, asking you to take me on a grand adventure, but I'm not naive to the fact that you could get into a great deal of trouble." The horrific reality of what she was asking this man to do for her began to sink in. This was not right of her. She should not jeopardize someone for her own pleasures.

"Don't be a fool on account of me. I'm sure you have many important things to be doing tonight. Why don't you just take me back, and I'll say you are merely a kind stranger who helped me get home. My father will probably give you a few pounds and a cup of scotch and you can be on your way."

Harry was touched by her compassion, but he was not about to give up on her so easily. She was speaking from her heart a moment ago. It would be such a pity of allow her common sense to get the better of her.

"Is that what you really want? To go home. Because I don't think you would have gone to all that trouble to run away if you were going to just go straight back home again."

"I really don't want to jeopardize you either. A smart man would never go through with this. They would consider it kidnap, even if I said I went with you freely. They love a scandal."

Harry knew better than anyone the risks of getting on the bad side of someone powerful. And right now, he could care less about what any minister of magic thought of him. He didn't come all this way for nothing. And he wasn't about to let his opportunity go.

"Is your only concern for my well being?" he asked

"Yes, I suppose so. I really don't have anything to lose. But I don't know what your situation is."

"Well, right now, I believe I have quite a bit of time on my hands. Quite a lot of money. And am feeling very reckless… So stop worrying about me."

"Really? So, you'll really take me with you?" she asked meekly.

"Yes, of course. I'm at your disposal, and I wish to fulfill your every whim and desire." Harry made a dramatic bow, and as he rose, quickly took her elbow once more.

"So, let me go wake my friends, I'm sure they'll be delighted to meet you. Then, I think well find a muggle hotel for the night. I doubt anyone will think to look for you there."

"Brilliant."

* * *

"Do you think he's alright?" Ron asked as he lounged on the large four poster bed. 

It was strange how little the leaky cauldron had changed over the years. Nothing about it, from the old wooden bar stools downstairs to the dark musty rooms, were any different in 1934 as they were last time he'd seen them.

"Oh I'm sure he's fine. He's a big boy Ronald, stop worrying." Hermione said as she hustled about the room, her wand drawn and folded clothes zipping into open drawers.

Ron yawned and curled onto his side. "Hermione I'm tired, can you please finish that later and come to bed."

"No I cannot. And it's not like you've done anything to help, you've been just laying there since we got here. Why don't you go brush your teeth and put on something to sleep in? Those pants are all dirty."

"I don't want to," Ron groaned. "My legs hurt from the apparition, and I don't know where my toothbrush is anyway."

"Oh give it a rest Ronald, I apparated as well you know, and made a harder land too. But do you see me whining. And I put your bloody toothbrush in the bathroom where it belongs."

Ron rolled off the bed dramatically, grumbling under his breath.

As the thick door to the bathroom slammed shut. Hermione sighed happily and closed the last dresser drawer. Sometimes her husband's irritating behavior amused her more than she let show. It wouldn't do to egg him on.

Shrugging out of her thick coat and kicking off her leather lace ups, she pulled her favorite old night shirt and threw it on the bed. "Ronald what do you want to wear to bed?" She yelled.

"I don't want to wear anything." Ron yelled back.

Hermione laughed quietly as she stripped off the rest of her clothes and pulled on the long grey T-shirt. "You have to wear something, this isn't home. Who knows what's on those sheets."

When Hermione heard no reply, she smiled and continued on, "And I'm not having sex with you either. Harry could come back soon. And that would be awkward, even for you."

Ron opened the door to the bathroom and peered around the corner. "But I've never had sex in the past before." He pouted.

Hermione smirked and glared at her husband over the bed. Truth be told she wasn't nearly as opposed to the idea as she pretended.

"No." she said sternly.

Ron pouted once more, the pout that always seemed to break her. "No" she said louder this time, a smile forming on her lips.

Ron grinned. He could tell she didn't mean what she said. He could read her like a book. "Please." He wined as he crawled over the bed toward her. "Pretty please."

"Ron don't you dare! I know wandless magic. You'll be in big trouble if you make me mad." She shrieked.

But despite her efforts, he had made his way across the room, and now had her pinned against the wall. "I know. But you would never dream of threatening your adoring husband." He said before kissing her once.

"I thought you were tired." Hermione asked against his lips.

"I was."

* * *

"What the hell's going on Harry?" Ron asked groggily as he stretched his sore muscles and turned over to bury his sensitive eyes in Hermione's hair. 

"Ron, Hermione, get up, come on, we're leaving." Harry whispered loudly as he clumsily groped for another lamp.

Hermione sat up and looked at Harry as he hurried about the room, looking like a madman. "Whatever for, we just got here."

Ron groaned and flopped onto his stomach. Perhaps if he willed it enough, Harry would just go away and let him sleep. And besides, his muscles hurt too much to move this much.

Hermione threw her legs over the side of the bed and adjusted the hem of her night shirt. "Come on Harry, what's going on. I thought you were going to get your own room. Not that we'd mind. It's just…"

"No, I'm not getting a room here; we all need to get rooms at a different hotel, so hurry up and pack we need to go."

Harry had lifted one of the worn leather suitcases off the ground and began picking at the latch until the little brass hook flicked open.

"Okay," Hermione said standing up. They had promised to come help Harry and make sure he stayed out of any danger. It really wasn't their place to argue. "Get up Ronald!" She shouted poking her husband in the side.

"Ouch," Ron moaned flipping over again.

"Well, what hotel are we staying at? Is there one closer to the Ministers house or something?" Hermione asked as she pulled the comforters off Ron and yanked the pillow out of his tight grip. She was glad now that she had forced Ron to put pajamas on before he fell asleep earlier.

Harry whipped around and glared at her, "Don't talk so loud, for God's sake."

Hermione tilted her head curiously "Now you're starting to sound crazy Harry, what the hell is going on."

"She's outside the door." Harry whispered, "Marianne, she's outside."

Ron sat up and looked at Harry through half lidded eyes, "The one from the painting?"

"Yes, who else." Harry said. "I don't know what's happening, but…" a broad grin spread across his face as he fussed through the drawers trying to help Hermione pack. "But it's like everything is making sense, or falling into place… or something… Like my coming here is becoming justified."

Hermione smiled, she couldn't help but feel elation for her friend. Her school girl fantasies of love and adventure were being fed right before her. She felt like she was in a story book.

"So you've seen her then." She asked.

"Yea," Harry answered, "In the forest. I was walking and I heard a woman fall. When I went to help her, I realized who it was… and…"

"And it was like love at first sight?" Hermione finished.

Ron snickered from across the room where he was now sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Don't be such a female Hermione. Nobody buys it."

"Shut up Ron, and get dressed!"

"I felt like the fates were on my side, you know. I was feeling defeated and lost, and my answer was right there waiting for me." Harry said quietly.

"So she came with you here?" Hermione asked as she laid her last piece of neatly folded clothing in the bag.

Harry explained to them a shortened version of what had happened. Selfishly leaving out details of her almost rebellious affection for him, but he could see in Hermione's eyes that she knew… knew that this woman must be feeling at least something for her friend, to trust him so much.

"So you two have to pretend that I have simply told you that I've met a young lady who is traveling alone and that I have invited her to join us."

"Well alright," Ron said slowly, "But may we know who we are supposed to be yet?"

Harry had not yet worked this out… and it might be foolish to create too complex of a lie, though he knew it's what his friends would be hoping for.

"Say… say were from Australia." Harry paused, "No say we've been living in Australia for quiet some time and that we're here visiting our home… Say we're going to be conducting trade business here in a few weeks."

Ron looked at Harry quizzically, but just shrugged and stretched, "Whatever you say."

Hermione had just come out of the bathroom, now dressed with her hair pulled back neatly, and the sleep washed away from her features.

"Did you tell her, that we're married, Ron and me?"

"Yes, of course."

Hermione smiled mischievously. "Gods this is fun, we haven't had an adventure in so long… we should come up with something really outrageous." She said happily, "I've always wanted to make up a different life… let's see."

"No you guys please try and be as real as you can, you know without giving away the obvious."

"Oh, fine. Take away all the fun in it." She moaned.

Harry looked quickly into the mirror that sat on the short dresser before moving to the door and turning the knob.

"Come out soon alright. We have to check into a muggle hotel before sunrise."

And with that, he slipped out the door and clicked it shut.

Ron turned to look at his wife who had stopped to stare at the closed door. "Did he just say Muggle hotel?"

Hermione nodded and rolled her eyes before continuing to tidy the room.

Ron flopped back onto the bed, "But I hate muggles!" he whined.

Hermione gasped and hit him over the head with a pillow, smiling despite herself.

"I didn't mean you."

* * *

_**Note** - One of my reviewers "Sybyll" asked a really good question. She wanted to know why Marianne isn't allowed to do magic if woman were known to be proficient in all things magical as far back as we know. Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw for example. _

_Well, I'm certainly not saying that all witches during this time were not allowed to do magic, and I'm not even saying that Marianne isn't allowed. Marianne is allowed to learn magic, but only that which suits her needs as a wife and a hostess. _

_During this time (according to my story) it's in fashion for wealthy purebloods to have soft spoken respectful daughters who will make good wives, and help connect two pureblood families to each other. And such women do not learn things that excel the knowledge of her husband._

_Half bloods and muggle-borns, who are poor and common, have equal marriages. _

_Also, as I'm sure you've noticed, Marianne almost never leaves her fathers estate. She has never really experienced the way other people live anyway. _

_Her father wants to breed her as the ideal wife to one of his business partners. It wouldn't do to have an independent, free thinking daughter on his hands… It would look bad for his career. _

_I hope that clarified things!_

_**Review **- If you love me you'll do it. If you don't love me… well then that's too bad for you, I'm a lovable person._

_**P.S. One more chapter before the fun contest I mentioned in the last chapter is decided. (Cause I just know your little lives are dependent on the result) So if you want to be cool, put in a lot of reviews today!**_

_-Antiquesong_

**_humor my lips_**_ - Thanks for being understanding. And a double thanks for reviewing faithfully. I hope you like the developments!_

**_blondishbrownish_**_ – Hey! Sorry I wasn't cool and didn't update right away, but that's okay, cause here ya go! Sorry about school starting up again too, not fun… but having advanced with you will be a blast. Lots of love. _

_P.S. You were my 100th review. You're cool._

**_Jesp-R_**_ – Hello. I'm glad you found the story. And I'm really glad you like it. I hope you're still reading. Thanks a lot for the review._

**_Bob33_**_ – Thanks love. And I'm glad you're still reading. Hope you found this chapter._

**_lia23_**_ - Thank you. And I'll try super hard to update sooner… a lot sooner… (I know, I always say that huh? Silly me)_

**_Sybyll_**_ – Ouch, sorry you lost the bookmarks. I hate it when I loose any data on my computer. Anyway, thanks for the review, and for the question, it was a good one. (I addressed it above) And I think this chapter a little longer… I hope._

**_boyamiconfuzed_**_ – OUCH! (Rubs arm where very heavy book full of words has hit her) I think anything with you in it SUCKS! Am thinking of removing all things Katie from my life because I now have a nasty bruise on me!_


	20. Half A Golden Locket

_Refer to chapter one for disclaimer._

_I have alot of notes at the end... but for now, please enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

"I don't believe you," Marianne jested as they waited in the dim hallway of the quiet Leaky Cauldron. The only sound that could be heard was that of the weary bartender, who was lazily staking glasses downstairs.

"I promise they don't mind at all. Ron might complain about having to switch hotels, but deep down he loves the adventure," Harry lied. He was quiet certain that Ron may never fully warm to Marianne, simply because she disturbed this one nights sleep.

As Harry gazed down at the beautiful woman before him, he felt her hand discreetly entwine with his. Though the touch was simple, it was intoxicating.

Hermione and Ron opened the door a minute later, their bags at their sides and their eyes still a little hazy from sleep. They were surprised to say the least to find their best friend standing so close to this stunning stranger, their hands locked behind their backs in an attempt at being inconspicuous.

"Hermione and Ron, this is Marianne," he introduced, "Marianne these are my best friends Hermione and Ron, they just returned from their honeymoon."

Marianne smiled brightly and curtsied in a perfectly rehearsed manner, without ever moving from her secure position next to Harry, "It's wonderful to meet you both, and congratulations."

Ron's shocked expression was unmistakable as he stood just a few inches behind his wife, it was nothing less than the possessed look of wonder he once had when looking a Fleur Delacour. Ron was still working on controlling himself around beautiful women.

It was incredible, Harry reflected, how well pulled together and alert Hermione could be at this time of night. "It's wonderful to meet you as well" she exclaimed, nudging Ron in the side, it was apparent that his dead stare had not escaped her notice. He immediately forced his features into nothing more than annoyed approval and tired indifference.

"I am so excited to have another girl traveling with us. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to travel alone with two men?"

Marianne giggled brightly, and looked sideways at Harry. "I can only imagine."

So, are we going to apparate?" Hermione asked.

"I think so," Harry answered as he looked down at the woman beside him. "Is that alright with you, I know it was jolting the last time."

'Anything to be as close to you as I was before,' she thought to herself guiltily. "I think I'll do alright."

"Well than that's settled then," Harry sighed, relieved to have another excuse to hold her so closely.

* * *

Muggle London was beautiful; Harry never remembered the city so quiet. The long street, softly dusted with dim lamp light was eerie, yet stunning.

Ron and Hermione had gone ahead and checked into the hotel room. Nothing was fast enough for Ron who was still mourning his lost sleep. Harry tried to reassure him that there would be plenty of time to sleep in, and that they had nothing planned for the morning, but nothing could convince the fuming redhead.

And with one more stolen glance at Marianne, he hauling his wife down the street where the small but respectable hotel sat buried in east London.

Now, as the moon took its final bow, and Harry could smell morning approaching, two lone figures walked slowly down the quiet streets, feeling happier and safer than they had ever before.

"I really like Hermione," Marianne said sweetly. "I don't have many friends. She seems so confident; she must have many friends from where you come from."

Harry laughed deeply; he never thought he'd hear Hermione described as particularly popular. "Well, lots of people know her, but she's usually friendlier with her books than with society."

"Why was that funny," she poked, feeling guilty once again that she was intruding on such a close friendship, a friendship where the three seemed to know everything about each other. "Oh heavens, I can't get over how awkward I feel sometimes." She whispered meekly.

"Why should you feel awkward?"

"Oh I don't know, you say you want me here, but I've never been good at deciphering true feelings. I can't imagine why you would want me in your way."

She stopped walking and stood next to a thin tree. She looked at him sternly; her feelings were not going get in the way of her getting the answers she sought.

"I refuse to be a nuisance, and no matter how hard I try to talk myself out of it, I just cannot get past the idea that I'm interrupting. You must have something very important to do here Harry." She sighed and looked to her feet, "I'm afraid I have to be blunt. I trust you, but I'm not so naive as to not see that there is something strange about this whole situation."

It occurred to Harry that he was not in the fairy tale circumstance he had hoped to face. She was intelligent and confident. She knew there was more than met they eye, and unless he found a plausible way to reassure her, he might be forced to let her go sooner than he was ready.

"I want you to tell me the truth; I want to know exactly why you are here Harry. Why you and your friends are in England… and why you were wandering around the forests surrounding my property." She added as if the idea had suddenly occurred to her.

It was now or never. Harry opened his mouth and prayed that whatever came spilling out would be the right response. Everything depended on it. He had an idea, something he had been tumbling around in the dark corners of his mind, but it was risky. However, if delivered correctly, it could be to his great advantage.

Harry smiled. "Promise you wont be angry about what I'm about to tell you." He said softly.

"That depends," she answered sternly. She suddenly shifted backwards as if she craved her personal space.

"Hermione works for a wizarding newspaper, in Boston."

"Are you saying your Americans?" she asked lightly, "You don't speak like Americans."

"Were not American's," Harry jested, "we moved there about five years ago, Hermione writes for the paper and Ron teaches flying at-"

"The Bridget Bishop School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" she asked smirking. "It's a fine school, the best in the states.

"Yes," Harry smiled, "Ron likes it very much." Harry crossed his fingers, it would be disastrous is any of this information was checked out, for they would find a newspaper that does not employ a Hermione Weasley, and a baffled American headmaster who has certainly never heard of Ronald. Everything was a gamble.

"Why should any of this make me angry," she asked, "those are both very honorable professions."

"Yes, but it's what I do," Harry cut in, "I also write for the newspaper. I write a political column." Marianne looked up at him sharply. This could get ugly if he wasn't careful.

"My boss told me that the minister of magic in England might make an interesting story." He paused. "He wanted me to write something, but seeing as how I know nothing about him he decided to let me make a holiday of it, with Hermione and Ron. Hermione is up for a vacation herself… I'm supposed to enjoy myself and come back with a story." Harry smiled nervously and sighed, a0waiting the cruel assumptions that were sure to come.

"Are you saying you're using me?" she asked quietly, a painful edge to her soft voice.

"Marianne I know nothing of you or your father, and to be honest I could care less about this story, it means nothing to me. I told him I would do it, most for the holiday, Ron and I were talking about coming back to London for awhile now anyway. To be honest, I was planning on writing a false interview as it was. I've done it before. As long as I write nothing but good praise, not a single politician will call me on the lie."

Harry put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight timidly.

"I was afraid to tell you. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd come with me anyway at first. And I guess that once you did that you would think just this, that I'm using you." He paused and looked at her sincerely, "It was wrong of me to lie, forgive me."

Marianne's stillness was unreadable; nothing in her normally translucent features gave away any hint of her feelings.

"Do you promise me that you didn't know who I was when you found me?" She asked matter of factly.

"No," Harry answered truthfully for the first time that night. He was beginning to fear the string of lies he told.

"Do you swear that you intend to do me no harm?"

"Of course not."

Marianne looked him over once and exhaled, "tell me why you were in that forest, and then tell me again why you're risking your career by kidnapping the minister's daughter," the last comment bringing a playful smile to her lips, a smile that lightened the pressure on Harry's clutched gut.

She had fallen for it, and hopefully respected and trusted him even more in exchange. To blindly trust a mysterious stranger is something for story books. Such romantic tendencies didn't last long in real life. Common sense always took over, whether for better or worse.

"I had found your house earlier that evening, right after we arrived and checked in to the hotel at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron, Hermione and I went to Hogsmeade for a late dinner and took a walk around the property. I was talking about trying to get an interview in the morning. Ron wanted to go to the hotel to sleep, and I wanted to get some more air, so I took a long walk through the trees. That's where I found you." She smiled.

"And to answer your last question," Harry said almost seductively, taking a step closer to Marianne. "My job isn't that great as it is. And it wouldn't have mattered if you were the poor daughter of a stable keeper, I would have still helped you run away. Why would I give up the chance to give a beautiful woman the adventure of a lifetime? You seem to be in great need of on."

Marianne bit her lip and beamed, all was most certainly forgiven. Her eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them.

Harry looked to his right where the sun was just beginning to peak over the top of London's shortest buildings. "Look it's almost morning; I really should get you a room. You need some sleep," he told her, his eyes focusing on her bright face, so beautiful in the morning sunlight.

She nodded happily and took his hand. "Alright, but you better get me a suite because I am unfortunately not the daughter of a stable keeper," she joked, "I am used to very fine things."

"Anything for you my lady."

* * *

Harry walked Marianne down the wood lined hallway of the quiet hotel; her room was at the end right next to his.

"You'll be alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine, I could use some time without servants bustling around me anyway." She said sweetly, fingering a gentle locket that hung around her neck.

"That lovely," Harry commented glancing at the double gold chain.

"Oh, thank you, it used to be my mothers, my father gave it to her when they were married, he would always make her wear it. He thought it was beautiful on her too." She paused for a moment than with a sly smile; she reached around her neck and unhooked one of the chains, letting half the locket separate from its partner.

"Here," she said re-hooking the clasp. "I give you half."

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she laid the chain in his hand. The metal felt delicate and precious, just like her. He didn't deserve such a gift. "Marianne, this is an heirloom, you shouldn't give it to me, and it should go to someone special."

She smiled and leaned up on her toes kissing him quickly on the cheek, her movement like those of a flirtatious child.

"You are special," she told him quietly, "…more than special." And with that she turned around and disappeared through the door.

As Harry entered his own small hotel room, he could still feel her lips on his skin.

* * *

The next morning came and went, without one of the four ever leaving their restful beds. It wasn't until well after noon that Harry awoke and stretched, ready to start his day, their day.

Harry quickly brushed his teeth and showered. He was dressed and presentable in no time at all. Surely Marianne would be awake by now, and famished no less. Harry couldn't believe he had slept so long.

He emerged into the well light hallway and looked towards Marianne's closed door. He wasn't sure if he should knock, but he assumed she would appreciate it if she was awake and waiting for someone to come for her.

Walking to the door, Harry knocked softly.

After a moment or two he knocked again, a little louder.

Harry smirked, she was probably sleeping. Though that was unlikely, it was common for Harry to oversleep everyone else, not the other way around.

Suddenly feeling very nervous, Harry had the horrible feeling that she might not be in the room at all. His fears were probably juvenile and even a little obsessive, but he didn't care.

He knocked loud this time, very loud, too loud to be slept through.

And yet, nothing, not even a peep could be heard.

Reaching out he wiggled the door knob. It was locked. He could unlock it simple enough and just peak in. If she was sleeping than the intrusion wouldn't wake her, not if she had slept through the earth shattering knocks.

Harry pointed his wand at the brass doorknob. "Alohamora."

Opening the door carefully, so it wouldn't squeak, Harry stepped through and looked to the bed.

Swinging the door open frantically he rushed through.

The bed was slept in and unmade, but she was not in it. Frantically he ran to the other side of the room where he found the bathroom door open and the inside dark and empty.

She was not here. At first a terrible sinking feeling of being deserted washed over him. She had changed her mind, come to her senses. She didn't trust him like she said; she wanted to be rid of him.

But it was what Harry saw next that startled him the most. Her clothes were lying casually over a chair near the wall.

Now Harry felt fear, deep penetrating fear. She had not left, she had been taken. They had found her.

Somehow, they had found her.

* * *

**_AND THE AMAZING CONTEST WINNER IS: Sybyll_**

_Yay!!! (Imagine the throwing of confetti) Yay!!!_

_So if you accept, let me know and I'll send you some questions so that I can start the character! okay? wonderful! I'm so excited. good for you._

_p.s. If anyone forgets what the contest was... just go back to the author note at the end of ch. 18... I know it was awhile ago. sigh.  
_

* * *

_Alright, there it is. I'm terribly sorry about the hideous delay; I have no excuse to offer. _

_However, I will tell you that the next one is going to be unbelievable soon... but you need to trust me, I don't lie this time. _

_Now this is important…I want to clear something up right away. The last part of the chapter should absolutely not be over examined. If you're thinking something along the lines of: "Well, she could have transfigured a sheet into a dress, just to throw Harry off." stop being crazy... stop thinking all together, and believe what Harry thinks at the end... he's probably right. I know, because I wrote it. _

_And Bridget Bishop was the first woman burned as a witch in Salem, I guess my terribly named and made up school dedicates to her. Or maybe she founded it... I don't know, nor do I care that much. Anyway, that's that. _

_ Have a lovely day everyone... _

_Thanks for reading, and **PLEASE** read and review._

_p.s. I give credit to** boyamiconfuzed** for modivating me to write with the release of her amazingly hilarious one-shot "I do believe in Fairies." You should read it, it's powerful... kinda. It's in my favorites list. Read it and leave her comments, she's the greatest. _

* * *

_**Jesp-R** __- Thanks! I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you're still reading._

**_humor my lips _**_-YAY! I'm glad you like Marianne, I adore her, and I'm thrilled you like the story._

**_lia23_**_- hehe. You quoted me, that's exciting. I love Ron... and Harry. Oh, well, I basically love them all._

_**balinnka**- sigh. You left me such a wonderful compliment and I didn't update for such a long time. I'm terrible. But if you're still reading, I promise to be so quick from now on it will blow your mind._

**_boyamiconfuzed_**_- Attractive boys? Where!?!?_


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